CIVIL SOCIETY, THE CHURCH, AND DEMOCRACY IN SOUTHERN MEXICO: OAXACA 1970-2007
A Dissertation Submitted to the Temple University Graduate Board
in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
by Juan Manuel Lombera January 2009
ABSTRACT
This dissertation examines the process of transition to democratic governance in developing nations. In particular, it explores the role of civil society and of the progressive
Catholic Church as a significant part of it in the democratization process at a sub-national level. The regional-temporal focus of this study is southern Mexico from the 1970s to the present, more specifically the predominantly indigenous state of Oaxaca. This dissertation fills a gap in the literature on the application of a concept, that of civil society, that arose in the context of the modernizing West to the democratization process of a Latin American and largely indigenous society.
The choice of Oaxaca as an area for study allows for two main perspectives of analysis: first, it highlights the differences in state-society relationships that take place at a sub-national as compared to a national level, and the types of regimes resulting from these differences. Second, it emphasizes the way in which the highly indigenous character of
Oaxaca’s population shapes the nature and goals of this state’s civil society.
The central point of this dissertation is that civil society has been a significant factor in inducing democratization in Oaxaca by transforming the state-society relationship from co- optation to contestation, as well as in conveying the culturally determined political demands of the indigenous peoples to liberal political institutions. The success of civil society on this endeavor, however, depends not only on the composition of civil society itself but also on the complex array of rights, leaders, political opportunity for reform, and cultural environment in which civil society develops.
iii
More specifically, the processes of democratization and de-democratization in Oaxaca depend in large measure on the ways in which national and sub-national actors shape the balance between cooperative, confrontational, and radical forms of civil society. Where political opportunities for reform allow confrontational forces to gain great capacity to challenge categorical inequalities, the processes of democratization have greater chances of succeeding. Where national and sub-national elites are able to use cooperative and radical spaces in civil society to restrict contestation, de-democratization should be expected.
iv
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Above all I wish to thank my three sons, Diego, Manuel, and Juan Carlos, and my partner, Nancy Farriss, for their love and support. My dissertation advisors, professors
Richard Deeg, José Antonio Lucero, Joseph Schwartz, and Phillip Berryman provided invaluable advice and encouragement. Temple University gave me the opportunity to initiate a meaningful second career. My conversations with a large number of people in Oaxaca allowed me to begin understanding the complex social and political environment of the region. Especially helpful were Lupita Reyes, Marcos Leyva, Manuel Arias, José Rentería,
Juan Ruiz Carreño, Roberto Raygoza, Franz Van der Hoff, Francisco W. Mairén, Sara
Méndez, Adelfo Regino, Joel Aquino, Juanita Vázquez, Gustavo Esteva, Austreberta Luján,
Ignacio Franco, Antonio González Roser, Jorge Herández Díaz, Victor Raúl Martínez
Vásquez, Fausto Díaz Montes, Gloria Zafra, Victor Leonel Juan Marínez, Cipriano Flores
Cruz, Othón Cuevas, Teresita de Jesús Santaella, Cristina Salazar, Beatriz Ramírez, Blanca
Castañón, Maru Mata, Roberto Molina, Angeles Romero, Manuel Esparza, and Cristina
Velázquez. In Mexico City, Luis del Valle, Clodomiro Siller, and Miguel Alvarez provided me with valuable insights on the role of the Church in bringing about social justice for the indigenous people. Karen Vellucci read the entire dissertation more than once and helped me root out errors. My deep appreciation to all of them.
v
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page ABSTRACT……………………………………………………………………….….………iii
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS………………………………………………………...... v
LIST OF FIGURES………………………………………………………………...……..…viii
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS………………………………………………………...... ix
CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION...... 1
1.1 The Democratization Debate...... 1 1.2 Aims and Central Points of this Study ...... 6 1.3 Theoretical and Empirical Conceptions of Civil Society...... 8 1.4 The Role of the Church……………………………………………………….….15 1.5 The Gradual Transformation of the State-Society Relationship..…………….….16 1.6 The Organization of this Dissertation……………………………………...…….23 1.7 Methodology and Case Selection ...... 23
2. CIVIL SOCIETY AND DEMOCRATIC TRANSITION ...... 29
2.1 Theories of Democratic Transition...... 31 2.2 Philosophical Conceptions of Civil Society...... 35 2.3 Civil Society in Practice ...... 42 2.3.1 Some Controversies over the Practice of Civil Society...... 45 2.3.2 The Development of Civic Traditions...... 55 2.4 Civil Society and Political Institutions...... 63 2.5 Civil Society and the Church...... 71 2.6 Conclusion...... 81
3. CIVIL SOCIETY IN OAXACA ...... 84
3.1 The State’s Attitude towards Indigeneity...... 86 3.2 Indigenous Civil Society ...... 92 3.3 Indigenous Movement Organizations...... 100 3.3.1 Antecedents of Indigenous Movements...... 101 3.3.2 Post-1992 Goal of Indigenous Movements: Multicultural Reforms...... 105 3.3.3 Challenges of Implementation of Multicultural Reforms ...... 115 3.3.4 Contribution of Multicultural Reforms to Democratization...... 119 3.3.5 Multicultural Reforms amidst Economic Neo-liberalism...... 121 3.4 Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs)...... 125 3.5 Conclusion...... 128 vi
4. THE CHURCH IN OAXACA...………………………………………………………… 131
4.1 The Church’s Attitude towards Indigeneity………………………………….... 133 4.1.1.Indigenous Theology…………………………………………………. 138 4.2 The Origin of Church-sponsored Civil Organizations……………………...…. 141 4.2.1 Indigenous and Social Ministry……………………………………… 141 4.2.2 Youth Ministry….…………………………………………………….. 144 4.2.3 Base Ecclesial Communities (BECs).………………………………... 145 4.2.4 A Change of Attitude by the Church’s Hierarchy…………………..... 149 4.3 Five Church-led Democratization Initiatives……………………………...….. 156 4.3.1 The Church in the Isthmus………………………………………...…. 157 4.3.2 An Indigenous Coffee Cooperative………………………………...… 168 4.3.3 An Environmental Protection Project……………………………...… 170 4.3.4 The Preservation of the Woods………………………………...…….. 172 4.3.5 The Recognition of Indigenous Electoral Practices…………...…….. 173 4.4 Conclusion…...…………………………………………………………...…… 175
5. SUB-NATIONAL POLITICS…………………………………………………...……… 177
5.1 Decentralization and Sub-national Democratization…….…..……………...… 180 5.2 The State-Society Relationship in Oaxaca 1986–1998: Semi-clientelism and Pluralistic Tolerance………………………………………………………….. 187 5.3 State-Society Relationships in Oaxaca 1998–2007: Authoritarian Clientelism……………………………………….……………….…...………. 193 5.4 Citizens’ Response to Authoritarianism…………………………...………….. 205 5.5 Conclusion………….…………………..…………………………...………… 225
6. CONCLUSIONS..………………………………………………………………….…… 229
6.1 The Role of Civil Society...…………………………………………………… 230 6.2 The Role of the Progressive Catholic Church….………………………………233 6.3 Elite Pacts………………………………………………………………………235 6.4 Conditions and Processes Required for Democratization...…………………… 237
REFERENCES CITED….………………………………………………...……………….. 243
vii
LIST OF FIGURES
FIGURE Page
1.1 Regions of Oaxaca...... xii 1.2 Districts of Oaxaca ...... xiii 5.1 Distribution of Oaxaca's Municipalities Governed by the Party System ...... 189 5.2 Oaxaca's Vote for President...... 190 5.3 Oaxaca's Vote for Directly Elected Federal Representatives...... 191 5.4 Oaxaca's Vote for Governor ...... 203 5.5 Composition of Oaxaca's Congress...... 205 5.6 Oaxaca's Vote for Directly Elected Federal Senators...... 207 5.7 Comparative Voting Abstention Rates...... 224 5.8 Oaxaca's Municipal Elections. Population Governed by Political Party in 2007...... 225
viii
ABBREVIATIONS
ACO Asamblea Ciudadana de Oaxaca (Citizen’s Assembly of Oaxaca)
APPO Asamblea Popular de los Pueblos de Oaxaca (Popular Assembly of the Peoples of Oaxaca)
BECs Base Ecclesial Communities
CEDIPIO Centro Diocesano de Pastoral Indígena de Oaxaca (Diocesan Center for Indigenous Ministry of Oaxaca)
CEE Centro de Estudios Ecuménicos (Center for Ecumenical Studies)
CEHILA Comisión para el Estudio de la Historia de la Iglesia en America Latina y el Caribe (Commission for the Study of the Latin American and Caribbean Church).
CEI Comisión Episcopal para los Indígenas (Bishop’s Comission for the Indigenous People)
CELAM Conferencia del Episcopado Latino Americano (Latin American Bishops Conference)
CEM Conferencia del Episcopado Mexicano (Mexican BishopsConference).
CENAMI Centro Nacional de Ayuda a las Misiones Indígenas (National Center for Aid to Indigenous Missions)
CENCOS Centro Nacional de Comunicación Social (National Media Center).
CNC Confederación Nacional Campesina (National Peasants’ Confederation).
COCEI Coalición de Obreros, Campesinos y Estudiantes del Istmo (Coalition of Workers, Peasants, and Students of the Isthmus).
CRT Centro de Reflexión Teológica (Center for Theological Studies).
FAPROP Fundación para el Apoyo de Propuestas Populares (Foundation for the Support of Popular Initiatives).
FONI Foro de Niños de Oaxaca (Children’s Educational Network of Oaxaca).
ix
FUTEPIN Fundamentos Teológicos de la Pastoral Indígena (Theological Foundations for an Indigenous Ministry)
IEE Instituto Estatal Electoral (State Electoral Institute).
IFE Instituto Federal Electoral (Federal Electoral Institute).
ILO International Labor Organization
IMDOSOC Instituto Mexicano de Doctrina Social Cristiana (Mexican Institute of Christian Social Doctrine).
INI Instituto Nacional Indigenista (National Indigenous Institute).
MCR Multicultural Reforms
MISEREOR German Catholic Bishops’ Organization for Development Cooperation
MST Movimento Dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra (Landless Rural Workers’ Movement).
NGOs Non-governmental organizations
ORAB Organización de Agricultores Biológicos (The Organization of Biological Farmers).
PAN Partido de Acción Nacional (National Action Party).
PCM Partido Comunista Mexicano (Mexican Communist Party).
PPS Partido Popular Socialista (Popular Socialist Party).
PRD Partido de la Revolución Democrática (Party of the Democratic Revolution).
PRI Partido Revolucionario Institucional (Institutional Revolutionary Party).
PRONASOL Programa Nacional de Solidaridad (National Solidarity Program).
PROSA Promotores de Salud (The Organization of Health Promoters).
RODH Red Oaxaquena de Derechos Humanos (Human Rights Network of Oaxaca).
RPS Región Pastoral Pacífico Sur (South Pacific Pastoral Region).
SEGOB Secretaría de Gobernación (Ministry of the Interior).
x
SERAPAZ Servicios y Asesoría para la Paz (Services and Advising for Peace).
SERESURE Seminario Regional del Sureste (Regional Seminary of the Southeast).
TCO Trabajo Comunitario Organizado (Organized Community Work).
TDT Todos los Derechos para Todos y Todas (All Rights for All People).
UCIRI Unión de Cafeticultores Indígenas de la Región del Istmo (Indigenous Coffee Growers’ Union of the Isthmus).
xi
Figure 1.1 The eight regions of the state of Oaxaca
Source: Government of Oaxaca; State Commission for Development Planning; Office of Informatics and Statistics, 1996
xii
Figure 1.2. The thirty districts of the state of Oaxaca
Source: Government of Oaxaca; Planning Ministry; Office of Systems Development, 1996
xiii
CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION
This study examines the process of transition to democratic governance in developing nations. In particular, it explores the role of civil society, and of the progressive Catholic
Church1 as a significant part of it, in the democratization process at a sub-national level. The regional-temporal focus of this study is southern Mexico from the 1970s to the present, more specifically the predominantly indigenous state of Oaxaca. The fundamental question asked by this study is: to what extent and in what ways has civil society contributed to a democratic transition in the state of Oaxaca? The answers are relevant for Mexico as a whole and to the rest of Latin America, particularly in those areas with large indigenous populations, where civil society has made strides towards broader political participation. The answers also can illuminate the larger issue of the political consequences of religious discourses and practices.
1.1 The Democratization Debate.
Most theories of democratic transition in Latin America assign only a limited value to civil society in the democratization process and emphasize instead political negotiations among power holders.2 Some of these theories suggest that the mere existence of social movements claiming autonomy from the state and the market is not enough to ensure their permanence and institutionalization. Thus, the unstable character of civil society in most of
1 Throughout this study the term “progressive Catholic Church” refers to a generation of Church leaders, including a group of bishops, who experienced the Vatican II Council of the Roman Catholic Church in the years 1962 to 1965 and the Second Conference of Latin American Bishops in Medellín, Colombia in 1968 and were inspired to follow out their implications. Also all through this study, the term ”Church” refers, unless otherwise stated, to the Roman Catholic Church.
1
the developing world, composed of social movements acting without operative civil, political, and social rights, limits its transformative potential.3
Consistent with these arguments, the Latin American experience shows some adverse consequences of trying to gain representation through civil society instead of through political parties. In post-authoritarian Brazil, efforts were poured into civil society associations, diverting energy from building political parties. This left the new democratic government without bargaining partners in the difficult but necessary process of negotiating compromises to enact reforms.4 In post-1958 Venezuela, established political parties and other institutions were stronger but found themselves unable to respond adequately to the demands of a newly- democratized society amidst a concurrent period of economic decline. Venezuelan civil society, represented by numerous movements, attempted to fill the vacuum left by political parties, but, as Daniel Levine points out, ultimately these various movements were not able to institutionalize political representation. The informality and ephemeral quality of groups claiming to represent civil society, coupled with the lack of formal institutions and political parties, left such movements vulnerable to co-optation by the state, as can now be seen in
Venezuela under Hugo Chávez.5 The Brazilian and Venezuelan cases show that civil society cannot replace political parties. In Mexico, although the social origins of the Revolution made the state sensitive to social issues, the regime that emerged from the revolutionary process
2 O'Donnell, Guillermo, and Philippe C. Schmitter, eds. (1986), Stepan (1988), Linz and Stepan, (1996).
3 Chatterjee, Partha (2004).
4 Encarnación, Omar (2000) 17.
5 Levine (2006).
2
sought to satisfy societal demands by incorporating them into its populist-authoritarian structure, thus inhibiting the formation of an autonomous civil society in the 1930 to 1970 period.6
The counterargument to elite-based theories of democratic transitions is represented by Leonardo Avritzer’s analysis. Observing that it is within what he terms Latin America’s
“non-elite” public sphere (of social movements, NGOs, “rights-based protests,” etc.) that the most significant democratic transformations take place, he notes that elite-based theories fall short because they take into account neither the “normative learning process” of democratization nor the social actors whose emergence and presence are necessary to long- term democratization. Moreover, Avritzer observes, in the elite-dominated political sphere of elections, political parties, and state bureaucracies, Latin American democracies have become identified increasingly with corruption, clientelism, an overly powerful executive, and sociopolitical inequality. Consequently, Avritzer asserts that Latin America’s most pressing political problem is not, as mainstream theory suggests, antidemocratic non-elite political movements or the institutional design of the elite-dominated political sphere. Rather, he sees the problem as located in the dynamic between these two spheres—that is, “the central problem facing contemporary democratization theory is the transformation of democratic practices that have emerged at the public level into institutionalized relations between social actors and political society.”7
6 Olvera (1997).
7 Avritzer (2002) 8.
3
Based on a critical reading of the literature on civil society and democratization and on fieldwork and archival research in Mexico, the present dissertation contributes to this debate by reassessing the contribution of civil society in comparison with that of other political actors in inducing democratization at a sub-national level. The state of Oaxaca is a particularly good place to examine ideas about civil society since it has, in recent years, seen an explosion of contentious politics. This state has also “lagged behind” the story of national democratization that many social scientists have been telling about Mexico. With a large indigenous population, southern Mexico has been the site of a form of undemocratic politics that is often neocolonial in character. Thus, democratization here is understood not only in terms of party dynamics but also in the ways that society has been able to leave behind some of the neocolonial sources of authoritarianism.
Civil society’s role in Oaxaca particularly has been relevant in conveying the culturally determined political demands of the indigenous peoples, which make up roughly half of the state’s population, to liberal political institutions. These demands are, as I will discuss in Chapter Three, related to the recognition of culturally differentiated and non-liberal forms of political and social organization. Liberal institutions assume the equality of all citizens before the law and reject, in principle, a culturally differentiated notion of citizenship.
The experience of Oaxaca shows, however, the feasibility of linking non-liberal and non- partisan forms of political participation, as practiced by indigenous communities, with a liberal form of political participation through political parties. This study suggests that theories of democratic transitions that fail to recognize the influence of culture on the practice of democracy are missing an important dimension of analysis. Lessons from the Oaxacan experience indicate that one of the key elements for the successful implementation of
4
democracy is the understanding of local culture and its influence on the type of democracy that develops in a specific context. Hence, this study views democracy as a culturally differentiated practice, and not as a universal prescription for political participation.
Another angle from which to analyze the current democratization debate is with respect to the linearity of the democratization process; that is, the extent to which the attainment of democracy is the result of a series of progressive steps towards a pre-established set of conditions that make up democracy. On one hand, institutional, procedural, and substantive definitions of democracy establish a set of conditions, practices, or outcomes that a regime must meet in order to make the transition to democracy. On the other hand, Charles
Tilly rejects the idea that democracy is a condition or an end point, and suggests instead conceptualizing democracy as a set of democratization and de-democratization processes along which countries are continuously moving. Tilly suggests that degrees of democracy in every country are always changing, forward or backward, and are never fully secure. 8
This study corroborates Tilly’s conception of democratization as an intermittent process by examining the evolution of the state-society relationship in Oaxaca: democratic advances characterized the 1986 to 1998 period, whereas from 1998 to date de- democratization has taken place. At the same time, this study identifies the conditions that induced the democratization period, as well as those that originated the breakdown of democracy at a sub-national level.
8 Tilly, Charles (2007).
5
1.2 Aims and Central Points of this Study.
The aims of this study are, first, to understand the nature and practices of civil society organizations in Oaxaca and to determine these organizations’ capacity to induce democratization in the state. Starting with the hypothesis that civil society has played a central role in the democratization process in Oaxaca, this study points up the centrality of this role by tracing the development of civil society organizations and identifying their goals and methods, as well as their influence on political institutions. The second aim is to assess the
Catholic Church’s influence on the development of civil society and the formation of indigenous actors. Much of the organizational activity in Oaxaca finds its origins in the pastoral work of the progressive sector of the Catholic Church. While the Church is not the only factor behind the increasing relevance of Oaxacan civil society, I suggest that it is a major one. Thus, this study represents something of a re-visiting of a theme that was once central to the study of Latin America: the politics of religion. After some decline in interest in the study of religion and politics, in recent years there has been a revival of this topic in the academic agenda in various parts of the world. In Europe, for example, religion has become a central issue in regional integration.9 This thesis explores the legacies and evolving nature of
Church activity and its intersection with other currents of popular organizing.
The third aim of this study is to determine the capacity of local political institutions to respond to civil society’s demands. The experience of Oaxaca shows that, at times, civil society has strived to contribute to democratic development in the state, but authoritarian governments have offset these efforts. Other times some civil society organizations or their
9 Katzenstein and Byrnes (2006) 679–694.
6
leaders, in pursuit of their interests, have acted outside the limits of the law or have been co- opted by the state. On yet other occasions, pacts among elite political actors have been forged behind people’s backs and have therefore been undemocratic. Thus, the capacity of civil society to contribute to democracy will depend not only on the nature of the civil organization and its leaders, but also on the response by political institutions and on the existence of a political opportunity for reform.
This thesis makes the following four central points: first, that civil society has been a significant factor in transforming the state-society relationship in Oaxaca from co-optation to contestation, as well as in conveying the culturally determined political demands of the indigenous peoples to liberal political institutions, thus inducing democratization. Second, that the progressive sector of the Catholic Church has had a strong influence on the development of civil society, and on the formation of indigenous actors who have challenged authoritarian practices of state and local governments. Third, that elite pacts forged between national and sub-national level governments, while maintaining some form of governability in the state, have been detrimental to the advancement of democracy. To this respect, this study points to the uneven development of democracy at national and sub-national levels and finds a close and inverse relationship between these two levels of government. In particular, this study explores the puzzle of why sub-national authoritarianism in Oaxaca resurfaced precisely at the time of national regime change in the year 2000.
The fourth main point of this dissertation is that the development and maintenance of democratic governance depends not only on the composition of civil society itself but also on the complex array of rights, leaders, political opportunity for reform, and cultural environment in which civil society develops. The existence of basic civic and political rights provided by
7
democratic institutions is essential for civil society to be able to function. Social actors must in turn use these rights effectively to convey their demands and influence public policy. The negotiation between the state and civil society will depend on the existence of favorable political conditions for a compromise between the two. This dialectic interaction between social actors and institutions will take place within a cultural context; that is, a system of values and principles, which determine the precise nature of the state-society relationship.
All of these findings are relevant for all developing democracies, where the understanding of culturally differentiated political practices, the incorporation of sub-national units to the democratization process, and the agency of civil society organizations and leaders can help determine the successful implementation of a democratic system. As a fundamental part of culture, religion plays a key role in shaping people’s conception of a just society and politics.
1.3 Theoretical and Empirical Conceptions of Civil Society.
This study engages various theoretical conceptions of civil society. For the purpose of understanding the role of civil society in democratic development, three fundamental notions will be discussed here. The first view, to which I shall refer as “cooperative” civil society, emphasizes the importance of civil society to democratic governance and can be traced back to the early eighteenth-century French thinker Charles de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu, and his student Alexis de Tocqueville. A recent formulation of this view by Robert Putnam posits civil society as a set of associations that both protect and develop the interests of their members and foster the expression of individual voices that otherwise might not be heard. At the same time, these associations play an important role in the circulation of information and
8
as loci for the debate of public issues, making citizen’s expressions, in Putnam’s view, that much more reasoned and constructive in terms of potential use by government. These civic associations strengthen democracy by monitoring the state’s performance, demanding state accountability, and insisting on the compliance with civil, political, and human rights’ norms.
One of the central benefits of such associations, which for Putnam include even social or sports groups, is that they create bonds among the participants, which in turn induce norms of reciprocity and encourage cooperation in venues beyond those of their original purposes. In
Putnam’s formulation, vigorous associational life creates a net effect in which the trust networks formed within these sets of associations lay the groundwork for ‘generalized trust’ throughout society, fomenting the public spirit and citizen engagement necessary for effective government.10
The second understanding of civil society, opposed to neo-Tocquevillian views like those of Putnam, sees the role of civil society in opposition to rather than in cooperation with the state. This conception, to which I shall refer as “confrontational” civil society, is held particularly by theorists from Eastern Europe and Latin America in reaction to interventionist states in those regions. According to this notion, civil society’s role in democratization is mainly to balance power between the state and society by making demands, providing space for collective protest, and confronting power holders.11
10 Putnam (2000).
11 White (1994).
9
The third philosophical tradition is proposed by American political philosopher
Michael Walzer, 12 who questions Putnam’s civic democracy by pointing to the “paradox of the civil society argument.” This paradox refers to the fact that the strength and responsiveness of a democracy may depend upon the character of its civil society, reinforcing both the democratic functioning and the strength of the state. But such effects depend on the prior achievement of both democracy and a strong state. Thus, Walzer sees the benefit of associational life not in the broad transformative potential of the two philosophical traditions defined above but rather in the improvement in the quality of life (however defined in a particular context) of ordinary people at a local level. For Walzer, the variable nature of the good life makes civil society a flexible concept that should be adapted to local needs.
Following the current of radical democracy,13 in which this notion of civil society is embedded, I shall refer to Walzer’s conception as “radical” civil society.
The three philosophical traditions described above have been synthesized independently by Antonio Gramsci, who suggests two broad views of civil society: one that conceives it as a means for elitist hegemony (what I called cooperative civil society), and another that sees it as a vehicle for contestation and liberation (what I referred to as confrontational civil society). Furthermore, Gramsci conceived of civil society as a possible site for generating alternative conceptions of politics (radical democracy and civil society, in my terms) that could confront the state’s cultural hegemony.14
12 Walzer (1991).
13 Chantal Mouffe, ed. (1992).
14 Hoare and Smith, eds. (1971).
10
But civil society, whether in cooperation with or in opposition to the state, is not always a positive contribution to democracy. When civil society organizations make demands, audit government activities, and set their goals following internally democratic methods, they become vehicles for the exercise of citizenship and thus contribute to democracy. In contrast, those civil society organizations that serve the individual interests of their leaders lend themselves to clientelism and state corporatism, leaving the organizations weak, passive, and state-dependent, stalling or even eroding democracy. Thus, “when it comes to the quality of democracy, civil society could be either part of the solution or part of the problem.”15 Foley and Edwards warn against a circular argument that would define civil society as only including those organizations that foster democracy.16 If, on the other hand, we include both democratically and non-democratically inclined groups, how can the state implement policy effectively when conflicting ideological conceptions arise from civil society? The indeterminacy of the concept of civil society, together with the various conceptions of democracy, hinders the establishment of a unidirectional causal relationship between the two.
These various theoretical perspectives on civil society have given rise to a number of controversies, to be discussed in Chapter Two, which tend to make civil society difficult to characterize as a single unitary concept. An attempt at a single definition, such as the space between families and the state, will make it conceptually too broad and analytically insubstantial. Neither is civil society a space lacking internal conflicts since different conceptions of the good life exist among the various groups that compose it. But “civil
15 Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006) 3.
16 Foley and Edwards (1996); Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006).
11
society” nevertheless retains its value as an analytical category. Carroll and Carroll point out that, as with many “meta-concepts” that guide theory in the social sciences, such as “state,”
“democracy,” and “power,” “civil society” cannot be observed in its entirety; but for the purposes of empirical research, operational definitions can and should be developed for sub- sets of the construct. 17
Chapter Three operationalizes the concept of civil society in the context of Oaxaca by analyzing three types of actually existing civil society organizations, which are related to the three philosophical traditions discussed above. All three conceptions of civil society and the organizations that embody them are essential for understanding the democratization process in
Oaxaca in the period 1970 to the present although they may not be reproducible in other contexts. To be sure, the analysis of any aspect of society in Oaxaca requires an understanding of the indigenous nature of a large part of its population and of the consequences of this indigeneity.18 Thus, the three types of civil society organizations present in the state have in common the endeavor to gain recognition for indigenous rights, culture and political participation.
The three types of civil society organization that exist in Oaxaca are: first, following the radical conception, the set of informal associations that make up the every-day life of indigenous people in rural or urban environments and that aim to gain recognition from the state of their traditional cultural, social, and political practices. These traditional practices are
17 Carroll and Carroll (2004).
18 An indigenous person is defined here as one who speaks an indigenous language and/or self-identifies as indigenous. This is a simplified, although frequently used, definition given the complexity of measuring indigeneity, a socially constructed category.
12
essentially related to the communal organization of indigenous society and include, among others, the communal ownership of land, the election of municipal authorities through a communal assembly without the intervention of political parties, a rotating “cargo system” to occupy municipal civil and religious posts, and the practice of unpaid service to the community or tequio. These practices are largely of a non-liberal nature: citizenship and the right to vote and to run for office depend on the fulfillment of communitarian tasks; electoral processes are carried out in a communal assembly where the vote is not secret, and the liberal principle of “one person one vote” does not apply; municipal government consists of religious and civil posts; and private property of land is often discouraged. The implementation of traditional practices has some times been problematic and has given rise to a number of controversies that will be discussed in Chapter Three.
The second, “confrontational,” type of civil society organization comprises indigenous movement organizations: that is, groups of indigenous men and women who come together to form formal organizations and confront the state. These organizations are made up of the same individuals who live a communitarian lifestyle, but who, beyond their communities, challenge the political system by resisting political hegemony and posing alternative forms of political participation, such as those practiced in their communities. Since the early 1990s, indigenous movement organizations have endeavored to have traditional practices included in the state constitution through the legislation of multicultural reforms.
The legislation of multicultural reforms is part of a broader debate between, on the one hand, those who defend traditional practices as a right of the indigenous peoples to govern themselves through a communitarian democracy, which they claim to be superior to that practiced by political parties; and on the other, those who insist on a universal notion of
13
citizenship and the even application of constitutional law for all citizens. The assessment of the contribution of indigenous civil society to democracy depends on which of the two views are held. Indigenous communitarian life is, according to the first view, a contribution to direct democracy. The second view suggests that this type of civil society works against representative democracy by undermining the role of political parties as well as the universal notion of citizenship. The focal point of this debate is the question of autonomy.19 Should the indigenous peoples of Oaxaca have the right to organize and govern themselves according to their tradition, even in conflict with the laws that govern the rest of the country? Or, can liberal and non-liberal forms of social and political organization be made compatible by accepting cultural diversity as part of a single heterogeneous nation? Are multicultural reforms populist measures and a path to continued rule by political bosses? Or, are they an affirmation of indigenous peoples’ rights and the route to national democratization? This debate will be engaged in Chapter Three.
The third type of civil society organization that exists in Oaxaca consists of formally constituted civil organizations, often referred to as non-governmental organizations (NGOs), which began forming in the late 1980s. These NGOs aim to be autonomous from the state although they are regulated and often financed by it. These organizations exhibit some of the characteristics of a cooperative civil society as described by Montesquieu, De Tocqueville, and Putnam. NGOs in Oaxaca have a variety of objectives, including the promotion of free
19 Autonomy is defined in Article 3.IV of the Law of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and Communities of the State of Oaxaca as the “. . .expression of self-determination of indigenous peoples and communities (…) to adopt their own decisions and establish their own practices related to their worldview, indigenous territory, land, natural resources, socio-political organization, administration of justice, education, language, health and culture.” Periódico Oficial del Estado de Oaxaca, 19 June, 1998.
14
and fair elections, the improvement in the conditions of disadvantaged groups in society; the promotion of the cultural, economic, social, religious, or political interests of their members; and the provision of legal and educational services. NGOs also have supported the enactment of multicultural reforms.
1.4 The Role of the Church
Actors within the Catholic Church have played an active role in promoting the three types of civil society organizations in Oaxaca, as well as in carrying out projects in defense of human, political, and civil rights of society’s most vulnerable groups. Most fundamentally, the Church has contributed to democratization by instilling in underprivileged and largely indigenous members of society the idea that they are worthy citizens who deserve to have their voices heard and to play a more active role in shaping political institutions and practices.
This approach by the Church marked a departure from its traditional role in Latin
America of siding with the oligarchies. This new attitude was the result of a worldwide renovation process of the Catholic Church driven by the Vatican II Council held between
1962 and 1965. Following the Council, Latin American bishops held a conference in
Medellín, Colombia in 1968 to apply the Vatican II directives in the region. In this conference, the bishops denounced social and economic inequality in Latin America and proclaimed that the Church should exercise a “preferential option for the poor,” giving rise to the fundamental ideological departure known as “liberation theology.” The underlying commitment of such theology is the inversion of the traditional process of religious enlightenment by “listening to the poor” and reshaping the concept of theological truth in the light of the experience and the words of the poor. In Oaxaca, opting for the poor also meant opting for the indigenous people, who were among the poorest in the state, and developing an
15
understanding of indigenous culture as a basis for evangelization. This understanding gave rise to “indigenous theology,” which adds an indigenous cultural dimension to the liberation theology method.
1.5 The Gradual Transformation of the State-Society Relationship.
A major problem in the development of civil society lies in the way in which “civic- ness” can be developed in societies in which it has not existed previously. The transformation of an authoritarian tradition like that of Mexico may take many years to achieve. The gradual change of the state-society relationship in Oaxaca, and in Mexico as a whole, from co- optation to contestation based on the development of autonomous civil society organizations, has followed an intricate and still unresolved path associated with the country’s slow process of democratization starting in the 1970s. The regime that emerged from the Revolution in the late 1920s became tightly organized under an inclusive corporatist structure during the presidency of General Lázaro Cárdenas (1934–1940). The period from 1940 to 1970 was a period of strong state-led economic growth, but also a period of political centralism and an authoritarian one-party system. The vast social change brought about by the country’s economic development, however, gradually undermined the regime’s foundations. The intense process of industrialization gave rise to an urban and more educated middle class that began questioning the PRI’s (Institutional Revolutionary Party) corporatist-authoritarian model towards the late 1960s. The year 1968, when a series of student protests against the regime were violently repressed by the state, is usually considered a turning point in the PRI’s perceived legitimacy. At this point, the PRI underwent a crisis that Alberto Olvera identifies as marked by a disintegration of the links between the state, society, and the economy:
16
The regime’s crisis, with origins reaching back to 1968, combined two main factors: (a) The exhaustion of the economic model based on particularistic arrangements, indiscriminate protectionism, and lack of societal control over state investments; that is, the end the developmental capacity of the fusion between the state and economy; (b) the emergence of new social actors who could not be coopted through traditional means; that is, the impossibility of maintaining the fusion between state and society. The prolonged crisis of the Mexican regime mainly rose from ongoing processes of differentiation of the economy, state, and society, ultimately leading to a legitimation crisis.20
Starting in 1970, the five PRI administrations that followed tried to restore legitimacy through various tactics, including partial and selective political reforms, populist rhetoric and public expenditures, and cooptation of popular leaders. Continued economic crises and the absence of a real political opening, however, prevented the full restoration of legitimacy.
Nevertheless, the regime would survive for three more decades based on its inclusive character and its systemic flexibility to negotiate with, absorb, or repress opposition movements.21
The 1970s marked the beginning of a new wave of social movements around the country and the emergence of a new tradition of civil association. As Olvera describes it,
“Worker, urban-dweller, peasant, student and middle-class movements sprouted up around the country; entrepreneurs began to create semi-autonomous associations; and an overall process of liberalization permitted relative freedoms of association, expression, and the press. Only electoral politics remained untouched.” 22 In 1977 following a severe financial crisis, the first significant political reform in the regime’s history was initiated. This reform strategically
20 Olvera (1997) 109.
21 Ibid. 109–110.
22 Ibid.
17
facilitated the emergence of numerous opposition political groups, including the legalization of the previously clandestine leftist parties. Many civil society organizations and “opposition” political parties that emerged in this period, however, were still weak since they lacked sufficient resources and autonomy from the state. The regime effectively instrumentalized, radicalized, or absorbed into its ideology a large number of dissident groups.23
This incipient civil society drew on the social doctrine that emerged from the Catholic
Church after the Vatican II Council (1962–1965). In the two decades that followed the
Council, a sector of the Church hierarchy, in the spirit of this new engagement with the concerns of the lower classes, turned its attention to the organization of civil society, and its
Social Secretariat24 helped form the earliest NGOs, human rights organizations, and research institutes. As Olvera notes, “[t]his activism meant that the Church had become an actor in the field of social justice, which had up to then been monopolized by the state.”25 The Church was the only institution that, in the context of an authoritarian regime, had the autonomy, authority, and the resources to promote the autonomous organization of society. 26
In the early 1970s, this process of formation of social movements and civil associations became apparent in Oaxaca. One of the groundbreaking groups was the Coalition of Workers, Peasants, and Students of the Isthmus (COCEI). Subsequently, several other
23 Ibid., 110.
24 The Catholic Church’s Social Secretariat was formed in the post-Revolutionary period as the Mexican Bishops’ office in charge of analyzing the country’s social problems and disseminating the Church’s social doctrine. Following the 1968 student movement and the Medellín Conference of Latin American Bishops, the Social Secretariat separated itself from the hierarchy but maintained its mission although now as an independent Church entity.
25 Olvera, ed. (2003) 47.
26 Muro (1994).
18
independent popular organizations formed throughout the state. The heavily indigenous membership of many of these organizations meant struggles over issues important to this membership: autonomous control over natural resources, such as forestry and mining within community boundaries; control of coffee production; land redistribution; cultural recognition; and local democracy. Despite state government repression, the struggles continued, erupting in a governability crisis that by 1977 resulted in the removal of Governor Manuel Zárate
Aquino.27 Popular movements fared differently in different parts of the state. In Oaxaca’s central region in the late 1970s, tactics of severe repression and the co-optation of leaders combined with internal divisions to defeat the popular movement; while in other places, such as the Isthmus and Tuxtepec, independent popular organization centering on land redistribution and local democratization continued during the 1980s.28
At the national level, by the early 1980s, the logic of the country’s economic system
(high levels of public spending and foreign indebtedness and protectionist policies) had reached its limits, and the living conditions of most Mexicans continued to deteriorate. In
1982, an acute economic crisis again undermined any attempts to regain legitimacy. The mid
1980s were characterized by the change of economic policy from one of a developmental state to a neo-liberal economic system. As part of the foreign debt payment program, international financial institutions required the federal government to reduce public spending in areas such as welfare assistance, poverty alleviation, health care, and social security.
Mexican government officials were compelled to define a new development model
27 Anaya-Muñoz (2004).
28 Martínez Vásquez (1990).
19
characterized by the liberalization of foreign trade, the reduction of the public deficit, political decentralization, and the privatization of the economy. During the 1982 to 1988 period, the economy did not grow, and real wages and salaries continuously deteriorated under high inflation. These conditions sparked the demands of civil society groups not only for economic improvement but also for the further opening of social, legal, and political spaces.
During the 1980s, opposition political parties took the opportunity to use liberalization and decentralization measures as a way to press the federal government for broader participation in the country’s political life and to redefine the old subordination of states and municipalities to the central government. The decreased role of the neo-liberal state in the economy and the pressure from states, municipalities, and civil society for decentralization weakened the traditional corporatist mechanisms of control by the central government. Thus, since the mid 1980’s, opposition parties began increasing their share of state and municipal governments, and the theme of federalism was converted into one of the most important political issues in the country.
In 1990, a new political reform gave rise to the creation of the Federal Electoral
Institute (IFE) as an impartial and professional entity charged with supervising Mexico’s electoral process. Although during its first five years the IFE remained under the chairmanship of the Minister of the Interior, thus hampering its full autonomy from the state, the creation of the IFE was a meaningful first step towards the democratization of the electoral process. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, the PRI acknowledged, for the first time in the post-Revolutionary period, opposition party victories in gubernatorial elections.
Meanwhile in Oaxaca in the early 1990s, indigenous organizations clarified and prioritized their demands for the recognition of ethnic diversity and indigenous rights. As
20
Anaya-Muñoz points out, these issues took on added urgency in Oaxaca and elsewhere in
Mexico with the consciousness raised by the approach of the quincentenary of Columbus’s arrival in America. Even more influential was the Zapatista uprising in the neighboring state of Chiapas, with its agenda of cultural diversity and indigenous rights. “The Oaxacan organization’s ‘indigenousness’ was reaffirmed, while the political challenge to the PRI regime in the state was dramatically altered.”29
This high point in Oaxaca’s indigenous movement met with the state’s endeavor, similar to that of the federal government, of regaining legitimacy through a relative political opening. The period from 1986 to 1998 in Oaxaca witnessed the emergence of a “politics of recognition;” that is, the process of political reform intended to recognize formally cultural diversity and indigenous peoples’ rights.30 Part of these consisted of the right of indigenous peoples to elect their officials and make other political decisions within their communities according to their traditional practices. Between 1995 and 1998, the state congress approved traditional electoral processes in 418 municipalities of Oaxaca where indigenous practices prevailed. The remaining 152 municipalities in the state still conduct their local elections through the party system. Through this pluralistic strategy, the PRI maintained control of the state’s government although with a decreasing share of the votes throughout the 1990s. The legislation of multicultural reforms in Oaxaca is more advanced than in any other Mexican state or the federal constitution, and identifies Oaxaca as a laboratory in which to examine the
29 Anaya-Muñoz (2004) 424.
30 The term is from Charles Taylor (1992).
21
impact that agreements regarding indigenous rights and culture exert on Mexico’s political institutions.
As the country continued democratizing, the administration of President Ernesto
Zedillo (1994–2000) continued acknowledging opposition parties’ victories in gubernatorial and federal congressional elections in most places where they occurred. In 1996, civil society celebrated a major achievement in favor of democratization when the IFE became organized as a citizen-managed institution in charge of organizing and supervising the electoral process.
At the same time, the PRI was losing another pillar of the party’s traditional political hegemony: presidential power within the party. By the late 1990s, President Zedillo was unable to maintain the previously strong discipline within the PRI, which split into two competing factions. On one side, hard-liners or “dinosaurs” attempted to maintain the party’s hegemony by reinforcing old authoritarian practices. On the other, progressives were interested in reforming the party and seeking legitimization through competitive elections.
This split had important consequences in Oaxaca, where the PRI candidate for governor in the
1998 election sided with the “dinosaur” wing of the party.
The period 1998 to the present has witnessed a re-emergence of a process of de- democratization in Oaxaca. At this point, the PRI strategy in the state changed from one of seeking legitimacy through political opening, as practiced during the “politics of recognition” period of 1986 to 1998, to one of maintaining governability through authoritarianism and repression of dissident groups and the press. De-democratization in Oaxaca came about precisely at a time in which a significant change of the party in government at the national level was taking place.
22
1.6 The Organization of this Dissertation.
This dissertation proceeds as follows: Chapter Two explores the theoretical bases of the civil society argument, and highlights some key issues and controversies that surround the concept. Chapter Three operationalizes the concept of civil society in the context of Oaxaca by identifying three types of actually existing civil society organizations and analyzing the evolution of the state-society relationship from the perspective of society. Chapter Four discusses the contribution of the progressive Catholic Church to the development of civil society groups and democratization projects. Chapter Five looks at state-society dynamics from the perspective of the state, during two representative periods of Oaxacan political development: 1986-1998, when relative pluralism and the legislation of multicultural reforms were carried out; and 1998 to the present, when a process of de-democratization has given rise to contentious politics. Chapter Six draws some conclusions about the capacity of civil society to induce democratization and considers the outlook of the state-society relationship in
Oaxaca.
1.7 Methodology and Case Selection
The fieldwork that I carried out for this dissertation consisted of over fifty in-depth interviews with local representatives of the Church, and governmental and non-governmental organizations; local archival research; and participant observation of social movements and civil society organizations in intermittent visits to Oaxaca between May of 2006 and August
2008. The people I interviewed included members of the Catholic Church who had been involved in the development of Base Ecclesial Communities and democratization projects at a local level; local university professors who had analyzed the formation of indigenous
23
organizations and social movements throughout the last three decades; indigenous intellectuals who had formed civil society organizations and participated directly in the multicultural reform process; members of non-governmental organizations who had been members of Church-based initiatives in the 1980s and more recently had formed independent
CSOs; officials of electoral institutes at state and federal levels; and local and federal government officials, some of whom had been influenced by progressive Church initiatives. I visited and interviewed members of indigenous communities in the Central Valleys, the
Northern Sierra, the Mixteca, and the Isthmus regions of Oaxaca. Many of the people whom I interviewed have written books or articles on the subject of my research. Thus, in this dissertation I usually have cited these authors’ comments and ideas from their written sources rather than from direct interviews.
The breadth of the Oaxacan landscape with its 570 municipalities and close to 75 parishes, together with limitations of time and resources, precluded carrying out a thorough sampling of indigenous and civil society organizations. Based on the information to which I had access, I conducted basic ethnographic research on selected organizations and case studies that illustrate, rather than demonstrate, the influence of Church-inspired and civil society initiatives on the democratization process in Oaxaca. Since the 1960s, the archdiocese of Oaxaca has been among the most active in Mexico in promoting improvement in indigenous welfare. But outcomes have not been uniform across the parishes. The relationship between the ideas of liberation theology and the practice of it is not transparent since there are significant differences in the individual vision and modus operandi of liberationist priests and in the pastoral programs that they are able to implement. The evidence presented in Chapter 4 of this dissertation includes cases from different regions of
24
Oaxaca in which Church actors played a critical role in defeating cacicazgos, thus promoting democratization at a local level. These case studies are: the Church’s role in supporting a dissident movement of workers, peasants, and students that took place in the Isthmus, centered in the city of Juchitán, mainly between 1968 and the mid 1980s; the creation of a model coffee cooperative, also in the Isthmus; an environmental protection project in Putla in the Southern Sierra; a project for the preservation of the forest in Itundujia in the Mixteca region; and a struggle for the recognition of traditional practices in Ixtayutla in the coastal district of Jamiltepec. Although some of these projects were initiated to address economic or environmental issues, from the start they also had deep political implications since they contended with the underlying structures of power in the communities.
In Chapter 4, I also present examples of Church-sponsored civil society organizations that support indigenous communitarian life and culture (radical civil society) such as ORAB,
PROSA, MICHISA, KIE-LUU, and FLOR Y CANTO. The Church’s support for indigenous movement organizations (confrontational civil society) is exemplified by its affinity with
COCEI. Finally, the Church’s influence on NGOs (cooperative civil society) is observed in organizations such as EDUCA, CENTEOTL, IXQUIXOCHITL, and RODH. Undoubtedly, there are a number of other influences, apart from the liberationist Church, that have given rise to civil society organizations. I endeavored to distinguish the influence of the ideas of liberation theology from that of other sources on the formation of local community groups. I did this by getting closer to the experience of local communities’ through oral-history interviews and participant observation. In documents and semi-structured interviews, I looked for evidence of how ideas have traveled from the minds and texts of liberation theologians to the local clergy and other pastoral workers, and to the grassroots lay
25
organizations. During interviews, I inquired into the origin of the organization. Was it initially formed by a priest? Are there any written documents that state its principles and objectives? Is there any message of liberation theology in them? How has the organization evolved over time? Have its objectives changed? Do its principles remain? Is there any association with the local bishop? Is the organization formally recognized by civil law or by the Church? Beyond the flow of ideas, I looked also for evidence of their impact and limitations. I did this by analyzing the published sermons, local newspapers, and other publications issued by the members of the grassroots organizations. In the last two, I found information about concrete results as well as obstacles to their work.
In Mexico City, I interviewed members of CENAMI (The National Center for Aid to
Indigenous Missions), which, as discussed in Chapter 4, was a key supporter of indigenous causes in Oaxaca. In Mexico City I also interviewed Jesuit priests who have studied and practiced liberation theology’s method. I visited some of the Jesuits’ research centers, such as the CRT (Center for Theological Studies) and their human rights advocacy organization, the
Centro Agustín Pro. Other national information and research centers that have relevant information for my work were: CENCOS (a civil society organization promoting free media);
SERAPAZ (an advising group for conflict resolution headed by former Bishop of Chiapas
Don Samuel Ruiz); CEHILA (a research center on the history of the Latin American Church);
IMDOSOC (the Mexican Institute of Christian Social Doctrine); and the CEE (the Mexican
Center for Ecumenical Studies).
The violent demonstrations that erupted in Oaxaca in May of 2006 and lasted throughout that year were not in the original scope of my research. I dedicated a good part of
Chapter 5, however, to the analysis of these demonstrations and their subsequent repression
26
by state and federal troops because I consider them to be a consequence and a manifestation of the de-democratization process that was initiated in Oaxaca around the year 2000 in countercurrent to the democratization process at a national level.
My interest in fieldwork among Mexican rural communities goes back to the
Universidad Iberoamericana in Mexico City, my alma mater, where after graduation I coordinated a community service program required of all students. The program was of an interdisciplinary nature and consisted of fieldwork and seminars on the economic and social evaluation of rural development projects, including an analysis of the projects’ economic, social, cultural and political impact on the community. In the recent past, I served as the
Consul of Mexico in Philadelphia. That position provided me with the opportunity to observe the endeavors of migrant workers from Oaxaca and other Mexican states and to analyze their motivations for migrating as well as the effect of migration on their communities. Family ties and a childhood partly spent in Oaxaca drew me to that region as a subject of research. My initial contacts in Oaxaca for this project were mainly among priests, sisters, and members of lay organizations. These contacts allowed me to rapidly expand my network to university professors, politicians, indigenous intellectuals, and members of non-governmental organizations.
The influence of religion on politics has long been a topic of debate among social scientists. Their tendency, however, has been to focus on the state level. I propose to contribute to the general debate through the analysis of a particular set of religious ideas that held sway during past decades but which hold repercussions in today’s political culture at the grassroots level. The particular contribution that I hope to make with this dissertation is to test
27
the independent value of the ideas of liberation theology in building civil society by analyzing a set of projects and civil society organizations inspired by the Church in Oaxaca.
By associating the ideas of liberation theology with a democratic political culture, I am making a claim that liberation theology did not make for itself, at least in its original conception, and I am bringing together two currents of intellectual thought not frequently associated: on the one hand, the influence of religious beliefs and discursive practices on the defense and dignity of ethnic identities; on the other, the construction of civil society based on the creation of local community groups that aim to give its members a stronger representation in a democratic society. The first has been studied more generally by anthropologists and scholars of religion; the second by political scientists. My study seeks to blur the strict lines separating these disciplines and draw attention to how the ideas of liberation theology permeate throughout the religious, to the cultural, to the political spheres.
The next stage of my research will consist of a more thorough analysis and sampling of organizations that aim to represent civil society. I will distinguish between the parishes throughout the diocese where the liberation theology method was adopted, and those in which some version of the traditional model of priestly work was carried out. By sampling these different types of parishes, I subsequently will carry out a more detailed ethnographic study among a few representative ones.
28
CHAPTER 2 CIVIL SOCIETY AND DEMOCRATIC TRANSITION
The wave of transitions from non-democratic to democratic regimes that took place in
Latin America beginning in the 1980s has been conceptualized most frequently as the restoration of political competition among elites after periods of authoritarianism or military dictatorship. By the end of this transitional phase, the reorganization of institutions and the growth of mutual trust allow authoritarian political actors to withdraw from the political arena.1 Democratic opposition promotes a full return to electoral competition but accepts the need to negotiate the rules of withdrawal of authoritarian power-holders. Democratic transition theorists, however, recognize that, once in power, pro-democracy elites do not always adhere to democratic values. This gives rise to instability caused by inter-elite disputes, and an anti-democratic political culture remains despite formal democratic elections.2
Transition theorists also recognize that civil society can affect the delicate balance of the political elite by either disrupting the institutional political process of democratization or, when made up of voluntary associations, social movements, and other fora, contribute to democratization. According to these theorists, this participation of civil society actors in the democratization process, however, is solely in a subsidiary manner to the interactions and
1 O’Donnell and Schmitter (1986), Stepan (1988), Linz and Stepan (1996).
2 O’Donnell and Schmitter (1986).
29
decision-making among the elite. Therefore, it is only the elite actors who can institute changes at the public level.3
This chapter reassesses the foundations of the concepts of the public space and civil society and their potential for democratizing societies vis-à-vis elite pacts. Verifying this study’s hypothesis that civil society does make a positive contribution to democracy requires an understanding of the nature of civil society and of the extent and conditions under which it can make this claim. This assessment is particularly difficult to make because civil society is a complex and heterogeneous public space made up of a variety of social groups with different objectives where contradictions and even authoritarian practices may co-exist. Furthermore, the development and sustenance of democratic governance based on civil society depends not only on the composition of civil society itself but also on the complex array of institutions, social actors, political opportunity for reform, and cultural environment in which civil society arises. In the attainment of democratic governance, institutions are needed in order to set up a system of political, social, and civil rights, including the freedom of association and the feasibility of citizen participation in the political system. Institutions by themselves cannot guarantee the authenticity of the participants. In addition, social actors must have, or develop, the capacity to influence public policy decisions in order to promote a greater efficacy and efficiency in the exercise of power. 4 The dialectic interaction between social actors and institutions takes place within a cultural context, a system of values and principles that determine the precise nature of the state-society relationship. At the same time, the capacity
3 Ibid.
4 Olvera (2003a).
30
for social actors to influence institutions and the favorable response of those institutions to civil society’s demands depends on the existence of the political conditions that might favor negotiation and compromise between the state and society.
After briefly reviewing the theory of democratic transition and some philosophical conceptions of civil society that are relevant for this study, this section analyzes three basic and related questions:
• What role does civil society play in democratic transitions?
• In the absence of effective democratic institutions, can civil society replace some
of the functions of political parties or the state?
• To what extent and in what ways can the Church contribute to the development of
civil society?
2.1 Theories of Democratic Transition.
Theories of democratic transition generally are based on democratic elitist theories5 that propose a separation of politics into two realms—one at the elite level, where reasoned and technically grounded deliberations take place; and another at the popular level, where mass mobilizations pose a threat to institutions that are in charge of the formation of the general will. In the analysis of Latin America transitions, however, Avritzer suggests that this region’s theorists adapted a democratic elitist framework to the region’s context in which elites are not always democratic and the masses are capable of showing democratic forms of
5 Schumpeter (1942); Downs (1956).
31
collective action. This theory, however, maintained the dichotomy between the elites and the masses and assigned the former a superior role in the process of democratization.6
Democratic transition depends essentially on the creation of institutional rules for competition between the power-holders and an elitist democratic opposition. Power-holders are divided further into “hardliners” and “blandos.” Hardliners “. . .believe that the perpetuation of authoritarian rule is possible and desirable, if not by rejecting outright all democratic forms, then by enacting some façade behind which they can maintain inviolate the hierarchical and authoritarian nature of their power.” 7 Blandos are prepared to convoke elections or a plebiscite in order to legitimize their permanence in power. These different conceptions about the way to carry out the transition give rise to inter-elite disputes, even after a formal electoral process has taken place.
Staring in the early 1980s, elections were held in most Latin American countries, but the success was questionable because of the involvement of non-democratic actors in the political landscape, the growth of socio-economic imbalance, and a culture generally opposed to democratization. Two analytical positions revise the tenets of democratic transition theory.
According to the first position, consolidation of democracy can only start when all political actors accept the fact that democracy is “the only game in town.” Only elite political actors, however, take part in this game, which consists of the resolution of power struggles among diverse political entities. Here then, democracy omits any method of conflict resolution at the popular level. “Democratic consolidation theorists assume a teleological stance towards
6 Avritzer(2002) 15.
7 O’Donnell, G and Ph. Schmitter (1986) 16.
32
democracy by assuming that the commitment of all political actors to democracy as a method for resolving conflicts might per se guarantee the improvement of several aspects of recently democratized societies.”8
The second analytical position is based on the concept of delegative democracy, that is, “. . .the entitlement of whoever wins the election to the presidency to govern as he or she sees fit, constrained only by the hard facts of existing power relations and by a constitutionally limited term of office.”9 This idea differs from the democratic consolidation position by indicating a distance between standards of democratic institutions and the conventions of social actors. Although post-transition social actors formally recognize democratic institutions, they follow un-democratic practices such as nepotism, patronage, and particularistic exchanges that, under the formal rules of polyarchy, would be considered corrupt.10 Delegative democracy reflects the continuation of a political culture of caudillismo in societies undergoing a process of democratization, which tends to revitalize former autocratic customs. Long established routines, such as a low degree of accountability, privatization of the state, and the disarticulation between the law and social relations, continue to influence the development of the political system. Despite being un-democratic, however, delegative democracies can endure.11
8 Avritzer (2002) 32–33.
9 O’Donnell (1994) 55–69.
10 O’Donnell (1996) 34–51.
11 O’Donnell (1994).
33
Both the democratic consolidation and the delegative democracy concepts found their diagnosis on the analysis of elite practices; they fail to seek the deeper roots of cultural continuities and changes that are found in the public space. Such a quest necessitates a fundamental departure from the existent dichotomy between elite and the general populace and a replacement in the form of an examination of the political processes at the public level.
These processes might either contribute or be detrimental to democracy. By maintaining an elite-masses dichotomy and the ontological superiority of the elites, democratic transition theory minimizes a wealth of opinions and practices regarding democracy as a collective form of public decision-making and fails to construct a viable analysis of the process of democratization in Latin America.12
The strength of elite-based theories, however, rests on the stark fact that “getting anything done” in politics requires submitting to the “pragmatic” logic of the elites. Under this logic, grassroots politics runs the risk of being relegated to the ranks of politically irrelevant purism. Thus, the strategy to achieve democratic advances consists not on replacing elite practices with grassroots initiatives, but rather on building linkages that incorporate the latter into reformed institutions. In order to do this, power-holders need to release some of their power and accept some of the initiatives of civil society. Civil society actors need to be able to penetrate elite circles with the aim of influencing the design of institutions. A compromise on both sides should result in a new pattern of relationship between the state and society and on the construction of more inclusive institutions. 13
12 Avritzer (2002) 29–32.
13 Ibid.
34
This study brings up two cases, discussed in Chapters Two and Three respectively, in which a successful elite-civil society compromise takes place in Mexico. At the national level is the creation of the Federal Electoral Institute (IFE) as a citizen-managed organization in charge of organizing and supervising federal elections starting in the year 1996. At the sub- national level is the legislation of multicultural reforms that recognize the rights and culturally differentiated political practices of the indigenous people of Oaxaca. In both cases, the political conditions that allowed for the mutual compromise were in place.
2.2 Philosophical Conceptions of Civil Society14
Democratic transition theory alone is not sufficient to clarify the process of democratization because it is based solely on elitist system; other democratic models that give a higher relevance to the public space in fostering this process must be evaluated. This chapter undertakes this analysis with the purpose of identifying the roots of the civil society concept and its potential for democratization.
Two classical philosophers who share the idea that the interests of society should have a priority over those of the governing elites are John Locke (1632–1704) and Jean-Jacques
Rousseau (1712–1778). Both thinkers were interested, for different reasons, in establishing a government with limited authority and accountable to society. Locke and Rousseau, however, are antithetical in every other respect and differ on who should determine what the interests of society are as well as on how those interests should be determined. Locke posited that society must exist before government. In the pre-governmental stage, people live together ruled only
14 This section follows partly the review essay Elliot 2003.
35
by natural law. Although they manage to work together and to maintain individual rights, eventually they realize that there is a need for laws and government as a protection against those who endanger their lives and property. Thus they create a form of government that is answerable to themselves in which they are able to alter their laws as needed and to control the power of the government.15 For Rousseau, the interests of society are determined by consensus among all citizens without any biases in favor of any particular group. Following this consensus, citizens agree to abide by the general will as the supreme law of society. For
Rousseau, the state, even with its monopoly on the use of force, is never the master, always the servant.16 In sum, for Locke individual rights have a priority over common interests, whereas for Rousseau the general will is above individual rights. For both philosophers, however, state and society are best kept separate with as much society and as little state as possible.
Although neither Locke nor Rousseau emphasize the formation of independent civic associations, different from society as a whole, as a bulwark against an overly bureaucratic or powerful state, these paradigms “. . .have given rise to conceptions of a self-directing society, a limited state, and civil society as a source of resistance to the state. Also, the legacies of these traditions have inspired notions of pre-political solidarity, as in the claims of ethnic nationalism.”17
15 Locke (1690) [1980].
16 Rousseau (1762) [1987].
17 Taylor (1990) 95–118. Taylor makes this observation with respect to Locke; not to Rousseau.
36
A second historical strand, focusing on the place of civil society in the democratization process, descends from the 18th century French thinker, Charles de Secondat, baron de Montesquieu, and his follower, Alexis de Tocqueville, best known for his observations on early America. In order to contain an absolutist government, they proposed independent organizations and a constitution to check the power of the state. Montesquieu held that wealthy towns of Medieval Europe possessed extensive rights and power over the state. De Tocqueville thought that local associations of citizens, coming together voluntarily to ‘act together in the affairs of daily life,’ were particularly important in limiting the power of government. 18 For both these men, independent organizations played two roles: they operated outside of the ambit of the state promoting the interests of its members, and they functioned within the political system promoting diversity and providing a source of representation.19 As opposed to Locke, for Montesquieu and De Tocqueville state and society were mutually constitutive and interdependent. Both the Lockean and the Montesquieu / De Tocqueville traditions sustain that self-regulation and providing a counterweight to the state are relevant characteristics of civil society. Each of these two characteristics, however, carries a different weight in the two philosophical conceptions. 20 Self-regulation is essential in the Lockean conception in order to dispose of the state as much as possible. Providing a counterweight to the state is the central function of Montesquieu’s idea of civil society that assumes that civil
18 Tocqueville (1969). 521.
19 Taylor (1990)
20 Foley and Edwards (1996) 38–52.
37
society and the state reinforce each other in the search for responsive and effective institutions.
A third theoretical alternative for democratization is Robert Dahl’s conception that requires high levels of inclusiveness and competitiveness, and a strong institutionalization of civil and political rights. Dahl enumerates a set of processes that must be maximized in order to achieve polyarchy. Some of these processes center on the capacity of citizens to vote or to run for office; others are concerned with the structure of public opinion formation during elections. The creation of wide-ranging political equality within a polyarchy is Dahl’s fundamental point. He distinguished three main components of political equality: citizens must have the capacity “to formulate their preferences; to signify their preferences to their fellow citizens and to government by individual and collective action; and to have their preferences weighted equally in the conduct of government.”21 Dahl was interested in converting the requirements for political equality into prerequisites for institutional design within existent polyarchies. Feinberg et al observe that this conception of democracy does not take into account the intensity and functions of citizen’s participation: “A polity whose citizenry is demobilized and disorganized or, on the contrary, is mobilized against democratic institutions, would still be considered democratic.”22 Avritzer suggests that although Dahl’s theory introduces a public dimension, he does not conceive the public space as an autonomous
21 Dahl (1971) cited in Avritzer (2002) 37.
22 Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006) 2.
38
political space but rather as an institutionalized form of political participation through political parties for the election of elites.23
A fourth conception, radical democracy, rather than aiming to achieve legal and institutional reforms to established institutions, focuses on popular initiatives—on what people themselves can do to transform the conditions in which they live—and proposes direct government by the people based on the autonomy of a usually small community.24 As opposed to liberal democracy that aims to have “. . .as much society as possible, and as little government as necessary,” radical democracy seeks to have as much government as possible, but under the control of the people.25 Radical democracy, however, does not contradict liberalism, but seeks to hold liberal democratic institutions accountable for their declared principles: government by the people under freedom and equality. Radical democracy promotes these last two values in a context of cultural and political pluralism and recognizes the role of civil society and of sub-national and trans-national national forces in crafting democracy. The latter is defined in terms of post-modern conceptions of the subject, identity, the state, community, etc. This idea of democracy also differs from communitarian conception of politics. Although radical democrats agree with communitarians on the need to recover such ideas as “common good,” “civic virtue,” and “political community,” they believe that
23 Avritzer (2002).
24 Esteva (2007).
25 Esteva (2001) 11.
39
these ideas must be reformulated in a way that makes them compatible with the recognition of conflict, division, and antagonism.26
Following this current of thought, American political philosopher Michael Walzer puts forward a radical concept of civil society. Walzer suggests a more modest consequence of associational life than that of Montesquieu or De Tocqueville. He observes, from the viewpoint of the non-Marxist left, that a radical conception of civil society allows progress away from disenchantment with the high-minded claims of socialism, capitalism, or nationalism. According to Walzer, none of these significant 20th century intellectual causes have solved the problems of modern society.
Citizens do not have time for full engagement with politics, as communitarians require, nor did socialism succeed in eliminating the state. Capitalism cannot do without the state either, but has no way of explaining why people should think of themselves as citizens sharing a common faith instead of as mere consumers or taxpayers. Finally nationalism, as a basis for providing community solidarity, risks exclusivity and racism. To Walzer, the virtue of civil society is that it makes no such high-minded claims. Its pluralist competition between voluntary groups and their differing views of the good life (liberal or non-liberal) leaves it flexible, contingent on changing circumstances, and inherently responsive to local needs. In contrast to the large-scale state of either socialism or welfare state bureaucracy, he envisions a politics of ordinary people in people-size arenas.27
The diversity of philosophical traditions described above indicates the complexity of the civil society concept and the impossibility of conceptualizing it as a single and unambiguous idea. An attempt at synthesizing these various traditions, however, gives rise to three broad views on civil society, which were conceived independently by Antonio
26 Mouffe, ed. (1992) 1–14
27 Elliot (2003) 14.
40
Gramsci.28 The first, to which I shall refer as “cooperative,” conceives civil society as a means for elitist hegemony. This conception, which draws mainly from the Montesquieu/De
Tocqueville tradition, entails the engagement of civil society with politics, as well as with educating citizens, facilitating communication, and making government more effective.29 At the extreme of this conception are the risks of too tight collaboration between the state and privileged associations, as in corporatism, or protecting associational autonomy at the expense of democracy.30 The second, which I shall call “confrontational,” represents a vehicle for contestation and liberation. This notion of civil society fosters democracy by providing a counterweight to the state, auditing state activities, and holding the state accountable to the people.31 The risk with social movements that follow this conception, if taken to an extreme in a complex society, is that they might not recognize institutions thus inducing anarchy instead of democracy. The third view on civil society, to which I shall refer as “radical,” confronts the cultural hegemony of the state by offering alternative and locally determined conceptions of politics.
28 Hoare and Smith, eds. (1971).
29 De Tocqueville also was aware that civil society could be as tyrannical as any state. He saw associations also as an alternative locus of power and therefore capable of imposing their will on individuals. This insight, however, is less frequent in the contemporary literature of comparative politics, see Alford (2003).
30 Gupta (1999).
31 White (1994) 382.
41
2.3 Civil Society in Practice
These various conceptions of civil society have been used throughout different cultural settings and epochs. Carolyn Elliot synthesizes the recent history of civil society manifestations throughout the world as follows:
[. . .subsequent to its original conception in Europe during the Enlightenment,] the idea of civil society fell into disuse during the nineteenth century’s fascination with the state. Starting in the 1970s, as the communist states began to disintegrate, intellectuals and political activists throughout Eastern Europe invoked the image of civil society to mobilize citizens against repressive states and reclaim a sphere of privacy in social life. The Solidarity movement in Poland in the 1980’s popularized the language of civil society in the contemporary political scene. In Western Europe, civil society was conceptualized in opposition to neo-corporatist arrangements that had brought organized labor and its parties into institutionalized patterns of governance but afforded little access to other constituencies. Proponents of free-market economics saw in civil society a way for arguing for the downsizing of government. They emphasized the capacity of social groups to regulate themselves, enabling the return of crucial functions to the private sector. Global society theorists have expressed their frustration with governments throughout the world by adopting people-centered development as their answer to the state’s failure to bring about social and economic transformation. 32
Throughout the Third World, popular movements adopted the new terminology of civil society and adapted it to their own needs. To the Chinese students who rallied in
Tienanmen Square, the meaning of civil society centered on the idea of equal treatment by, and participation in, the state. Proponents of democracy in both Southeast Asia and the
Middle East used it to counter authoritarian rule. In African nations, it enabled people to challenge and even undermine despotic rule. Social associations in Latin America struggling to develop into a democratic social order also espoused this new language of civil society.
32 Elliot (2003) 1–2.
42
Avritzer observes that “. . .the principal characteristics of the consolidation of civil society in
Latin America are: societal self-defense during the authoritarian cycle; the self-organization of the popular sectors; the establishment of limits to the exercise of political power; and the claim for new rights in a broadened political sphere.”33
The image of civil society has had strong resonance in Mexico. Critics of the developmental state under the PRI have argued for decentralization to local communities or voluntary development groups to serve peoples’ needs better.34 Fundamental to this persuasion is belief in the significance of civil society to democratic governance. As the
Mexican state began opening up to a broader political participation in the 1990s, civil society organizations proliferated nationwide. The focal point of these organizations was the struggle for political rights, democracy, and the rule of law.
In Oaxaca, the three philosophical conceptions discussed above coexist and have, in practice, given rise to three different types of civil society organizations that have influenced the democratization process in the region in different ways. Following the confrontational conception of civil society, indigenous movement organizations claim sovereignty over those who govern them and feel the right to depose unaccountable governments. This notion was at the basis of indigenous movements that started in the 1970s and that most recently culminated in the violent protests that took place during the second half of 2006 in the city of Oaxaca. In turn, the nearly two hundred NGOs that exist in Oaxaca today behave more closely to the cooperative conception of civil society. These organizations are critical of the state but seek to
33 Avritzer (1997) 1.
34 Reygadas (2004).
43
influence it, rather than depose it or take over power. The radical conception of civil society is embodied in indigenous communitarian life in Oaxaca. Under this conception, civil society seeks not to take over power at a national or state level but to obtain the state’s recognition for indigenous peoples’ culturally differentiated practices and non-liberal notions of citizenship within their communities.
These non-liberal practices are based on the principle of commonality, which has been practiced in Mesoamerica and the Andean region of South America for centuries independently of any Western liberal influence. Commonality is a way of understanding indigenous collective life and has two fundamental characteristics: reciprocity and participation in the community’s political, economic, and ritual life.35 These are precisely the attributes that civil society, according to the Tocquevillean liberal concept, aims to develop among citizens. Nonetheless, the non-liberal concept of indigenous commonality differs from liberal collective action in that the latter emphasizes people coming together to further private, individual interests.36 In politics, indigenous communities practice commonality, in a non- liberal sense, through the election of local government officials by a communal assembly by consensus (the liberal principle of “one person one vote” does not apply), and through the assumption of civil and religious posts based on a rotating cargo system (not every citizen has the opportunity to run for office). In the economy, the practice of tequio (unpaid labor service or in-kind contribution to community projects) is customary, and land is owned by the community; indeed, private property is often discouraged.. In the celebration of rituals,
35 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002).
36 Oxhorn (2006).
44
community members participate and take turns in sponsoring the community’s annual religious celebration, which reinforces their identity. Through commonality, indigenous people express their will to be part of and acquire a sense of belonging to the community.37
The community respects the state as a formal administrative institution, but it does not delegate political capacity to it; rather it intends to retain power to govern among the people, to maintain the original sense of democracy, to process its own contradictions in an autonomous way, and to avoid the logic of capitalism and industrial production.38
The concept of civil society can be applied usefully in liberal as well as in non-liberal societies because the very contradictions between these two sets of values can be central to a valid understanding of many societies in which they coexist. Indigenous community life and its insertion amidst surrounding liberal institutions in the context of Oaxaca will be further discussed in Chapter Three.
2.3.1 Some Controversies over the Practice of Civil Society
The various philosophical perspectives on civil society discussed above have divided historical observers as well as current commentators, who have drawn on these and other traditions, to pose their own conceptions of civil society, giving rise to a number of controversies. Following are some of these that are relevant for the analysis of the contribution of civil society to democratization in Oaxaca.
One controversy is with respect to civil society’s relationship to the law. One position sustains that, although civil society is inclined to be all-inclusive, an exception should be
37 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 92–93.
38 Esteva, Gustavo (2001).
45
made for those entities functioning primarily in an unlawful manner. Basically illegal groups, such as criminal organizations or insurgents, must be excluded from civil society. Such illegal entities, who contest the validity of the lawful principles of society by their very hostility, disrupt the cooperation necessary between associations working within the structure of civil society. Organizations that promote change through means of civil disobedience, on the other hand, are very different; they endorse the rule of law but dispute the validity of certain laws.
Followers of civil disobedience maintain an open dialogue to justify their actions and explain their questioning of the efficacy of specific existing laws.39
The status quo of socio-economic inequality throughout much of Latin America, however, casts serious doubt about this differentiation. Hernando de Soto poses the example of squatter communities in Lima that live outside the law but conduct their internal affairs almost as models of civil society.40 These settlements occupy land illegally, receive no police protection, and have no access to city services. Yet, they have internally respected mechanisms for solving collective problems and integrating a great diversity of residents.
They also have a great capacity for organizing to make representations to the state, to protect against eviction, and to secure subsidies and services that they formulate as a matter of right.
In a society with unequal access to the law and little provision for the poor, emphasizing legality as the baseline criterion of civil society has permitted government, on occasion, to engage in most uncivil behavior. In Oaxaca, citizens have found ways to organize themselves to provide basic urban and rural services in the absence of effective state institutions, and
39 Bondourant (1965) 11.
40 Soto (2000).
46
have carried out demonstrations, although sometimes through unlawful means, against the lack of accountability by state officials. The latter, using legality as a justification, often have violently repressed demonstrators.
These circumstances give rise to the ethical question of whether unlawful public demonstrations are justified when confronting unaccountable and authoritarian governments.
Partha Chatterjee suggests that in non-Western societies, where citizens lack basic rights of dissent and free expression, their only recourse to have their demands heard is violence.41 In these societies, the distinction between legitimate mobilizations is subject to interpretation.
Clearly, the overthrow of democratic governments by mass protests constitutes indications of the absence of a democratic civil society. One current example of this in Latin America is
Venezuela, where social organizations have, along with the Chávez administration, been agents in the process of weakening democracy.42 Other not so extreme cases are those in which governments have been elected fraudulently, or those in which weak judicial institutions preclude protests through democratic means. For example, in Brazil the strategies followed by the Landless Peasants’ Movement (MST), which include extralegal forms of collective action presented as struggles for democracy and citizenship, are supported or justified by a majority public opinion that at the same time expresses distrust for established institutions.43 As another example, recent mobilizations in Oaxaca are the consequence of a
41 Chatterjee (2004).
42 Levine (2006).
43 Wolford (2006).
47
clearly authoritarian state governor who refuses to be accountable to the people. In these cases, are citizens’ mobilizations outside the law justified?
The second controversy over the practice of civil society, which is relevant for
Oaxaca, refers to whether groups rooted in specific ethnic identities should be included in civil society. Some scholars sustain that such groups undermine democratic processes and institutions by turning politics into a battle to maximize the interests of the group, no matter what the consequences for others.44 These scholars suggest that ethnic groups, that is, informal associations based on ascribed characteristics, should yield over time to formal groups determined by common interests. Other analysts have objected to the exclusion of ethnic groups from civil society on several grounds. One is that, by insisting upon formal organizations rather than the often-informal groups associated with ethnic identities, the poor largely would be excluded.45
It is often difficult for the poor to create formal organizations and, even if formed, their groups would have less access to governmental elites than groups made up of middle- class citizens. Thus, the actions and behavior of formal institutions and associations will manifest the goals and interests relevant to the elite. A second objection is that, in societies in which ethnic identities are strong and politicized, “. . .[i]f ethnic demands are excluded from civil society, it will be difficult to expect civil society organizations to represent anything close to the full agenda of citizens’ demands.”46 These analysts point out that it is difficult to
44 Fierlbeck (1998) 190–200.
45 Kasfir (1998b) 136–138.
46 Kasfir (1998a) 7.
48
argue that excluding the issues and organizations that are most salient for large segments of the population furthers the ends of democracy.
This study supports the view that any assessment of civil society will be more accurate if it embraces groups with an ethnic background. The inclusion of these groups would be constructive for democracy to the extent that such associations act to affect the political course of action in a lawful and basically peaceful way. The institutional mechanism that indigenous groups of Oaxaca have used to achieve this influence is the enactment of multicultural reforms (MCR), which recognize their ethnically diverse social and political practices, in the state’s constitution. This topic will be further discussed in Chapter Three.
The compatibility between the existence of a strong civil society and a free-market economic system is another contested topic. One theory purports that these two elements coexist and, in actuality, are discrete features of same entity. Although there is a strong correlation between a strong civil society and a free-market economy, it is also true that, economic liberalization has not always been accompanied by democracy. As Feinberg and others observe:
Most of Latin America, during the period of autarkic capitalism known in the region as “import-substituting industrialization,” had a statist and overprotected form of capitalism, which generated capitalist classes and working classes dependent on the state and precluded the development of an independent civil society. Recent economic liberalization in the region, except in Chile, has been partial and not very effective, largely because it was not supported by the institutional infrastructure characteristic of advanced economies. An efficient free market economy requires the existence of a rigorous legal framework that regulates issues such as the effective protection of property rights, an adequate level of transparency, and a state capable of extracting enough revenue to provide essential public goods and of regulating markets effectively. When this legal framework is not present, large-scale economic liberalization programs work to the benefit of groups or individuals that had an advantage before the implementation of reforms and stimulate the
49
consolidation of monopolies. This scenario may result in the intense social and political polarization and the decay of democratic legitimacy.47
In Mexico, civil society has developed parallel to economic and political liberalization that started in the mid 1980s when three fundamental changes took place. The first was a trend towards neo-liberalism, which led to the state playing a less active role in the economy.
This action resulted in an increasing differentiation of social, political, and economic levels among the country’s population. The second was the emergence of a consolidated party structure, which provided a method of regime change for the first time since the Revolution of
1917. The third change was the countrywide expansion of civil and cultural groups that permitted citizens to strive for political freedoms, democracy, and the rule of law. These three issues came together to generate the occasion for a democratic transition based on a better- organized civil society. At that point, however, political society was not able to relate to civil society as a true constituency, resulting in a weak party system. Neither the intensity nor the rate of the neo-liberal economic transformation could be equaled by political change. Instead, freeing up the economy deepened political and economic inequalities among the population and created a dual structure. This configuration consisted of a group of “winners” who supported markets and a group of “losers” who were in favor of protectionism, nationalism, and opposed globalization. Consistent with the dilemma posed by the philosophical traditions previously described, particularly by Gramsci, this increasingly segmented society was made up of two distinct types of state-society relationship: one supported the status-quo, and the other opposed it.
47 Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006) 9.
50
Oaxaca distinguishes itself from the rest of the country by having undertaken multicultural reforms at the same time as neo-liberal economic policies were being put into practice. Neither neo-liberalism nor multiculturalism, however, were fully implemented. In the economy, neo-liberal policies coexisted with semi-clientelistic welfare programs that aimed to offset some of the social costs originated by the state’s reduced spending in areas such as health, education, and various subsidies. These semi-clientelistic practices will be further discussed in Chapter Five in the context of national-sub-national governments’ relationships. Multicultural reforms, in turn, have had only a limited scope. The key question is whether these reforms were only controlled concessions by a de-legitimized state aimed at cushioning the effects of neo-liberal economic policies or stepping-stones toward broader political reforms. This question, and the analysis of the compatibility between neo-liberal economic policies and multicultural reforms in Oaxaca, will be addressed in Chapter Three.
Another controversy is the capacity of civic communities to contribute to the advancement of democracy. Robert Putnam supports the view that these communities play a central role in democratization processes. He defines civic communities as those in which there are a large number of cultural and recreational associations among private citizens and in which there is a strong connection between such associations and local newspapers. This web of associations includes both relatively formal organizations and the informal array of friendships and networks of social life outside the family.48 According to Putnam, the presence of civic communities as part of a society offers citizens various prospects of forming relationships horizontally and working together on projects of mutual concerns. This kind of
48 Putnam (2000).
51
cooperative association promotes the growth of a compelling feeling of civic-ness, which is characterized by the following features: a desire for political equality and participation among all members of society; the development of civic virtues, such as solidarity, trust, and tolerance; the willingness of political leaders to compromise and adjust to citizens demands; and the absence of a patron-client relationships among political parties, elected officials, and citizens Putnam is careful to point out that civic communities are not exempt from conflicts derived from diversity of ideas, but that they have the mechanisms of dialogue and willingness to compromise to deal with them constructively. In sum, there is a strong correlation between civic communities and democratic practices.49
In addition, Putnam argues that civic communities create social capital, that is, the features of social organization such as trust, norms, and networks that can improve the efficacy of society by facilitating coordinated actions. When individuals draw on their pre- existing social connections, often built in cultural and recreational groups, social capital is used to help circumvent the problems of imperfect information and enforcement of agreements that are present in all collective actions. He recognizes that not all associations generate standards that encourage good government. Those associations based on horizontal connections surpass ones rooted in hierarchy. He also maintains that smaller associations that allow members to meet face-to-face make a greater impression than larger more impersonal ones. Associations that include members from a cross-section of social groupings promote wide collaboration. On the other hand, ones that confine themselves to one particular group are less effective as they may form exclusive systems that tend to encourage civil discord.
49 Putnam (1993).
52
Putnam's major thesis, following the arguments earlier advanced by de Tocqueville, stresses the constructive input associations provide to democracy due to the social and communal assets they contribute.50
Putnam presents evidence in support of his argument by analyzing the northern and southern regions of Italy between 1970 and 1990. By comparing the differences in the political development of these two regions, he shows that the presence of strong civic communities of the North led to higher institutional performance while their absence in the
South led to corruption and inefficiency. He further suggests that the reason that the southern regions lacked “civic-ness” was because they had inherited strong authoritarian practices from the times of the Norman Conquest in the 10th century, and he acknowledges that a change in these practices may take centuries to achieve. Putnam goes on to suggest that one of the factors that hamper democracy in Third World countries, which find themselves in the process of democratization, might be the lack of civic communities.51
Various scholars raise questions about Putnam’s views. Historians of Europe have criticized the selective reading of history propelling accounts of civil society in the west.
Tarrow observes that in the mid 20th century, the northern part of Italy was a hub of fascism despite the citizens there having had a strong history of republican government. 52 Sheri
Berman cites the rise of Nazism over democracy in 20th century Germany, blaming it on a surfeit of civil society rather than a lack of it. Without reliable political parties, many citizens
50 Putnam (2000).
51 Putnam (1993).
52 Tarrow (1996).
53
of the Weimar Republic supported the dynamic but exclusive civil associations; the choice of this option only further aggravated the conflict with other social groups and heightened discontent with the republic. Such civil associations offered Nazi cadres an ideal breeding ground for their movement. Putnam's theory about Northern Italy, Berman suggests, comes from his decidedly American viewpoint in which the role of government is minor. 53
Another objection to Putnam’s argument is that it is not clear how associations formed among individuals produce the large-scale political and social benefits that he postulates.
Michael Foley and Robert Edwards question if in the absence of political parties or any active political motivations, it is feasible for a civil society to offset the state. They doubt that increased tolerance, mutual cooperation, and civic involvement may by themselves generate such benefits. Foley and Edwards also warn against the division of civil society into opposing groups or the deterioration of society into a cluster of special interests. 54 Michael Edwards suggests that in situations of marked socio-economic inequality the development of trust and partnership required of civic communities is difficult to achieve. In these circumstances, he observes that corrupt individuals might find it quite simple to exploit and manipulate the destitute who value these civic ideals.55 In Oaxaca, indigenous people are in a condition of clear inequality and therefore in a difficult position to develop trust in the state and in the rest
53 Berman (1997).
54 Foley and Edwards (1996).
55 Edwards.
54
of society. Instead, they are in a position to maintain a trustful relationship within their communities without seceding from the state.56
As Putnam’s critics assert, we cannot find evidence of a direct causal relationship between civic communities and democracy. Nevertheless, the moral values of trust and cooperation that make up the essence of civic communities are correlated positively with democratic practices. A further problem in the development of civic communities, however, lies in the way in which “civic-ness” can be developed in societies in which it has not existed previously. Putnam himself acknowledges this issue when he traces the origin of the lack of civic communities in the southern regions of Italy to a tradition of authoritarianism going back to the 10th century. Although Putnam recognizes that a change in these practices may take many years to achieve, he does not suggest the ways in which this change could be carried out.
2.3.2 The Development of Civic Traditions
The relationship between historical trajectories and the emergence and strength of civil society has provoked a great deal of controversy. One of the classical theoretical issues has to do with the stark fact that strong civil societies have arisen only in some countries or types of country. Scholars are just now beginning to recognize the institutional and cultural aspects that seem to sustain strong civil societies. Ernest Gellner has declared that only the West can support such practices, and these are not simple to transfer to non-Western states. 57 If Gellner is correct, the issue that must be addressed is the extent to which Latin American civil
56 Esteva (2001).
57 Gellner (1994).
55
societies are Western. If there is no merit to Gellner's idea, then it is necessary to determine the cultural and institutional requirements for the formation and maintenance of civil society.
58 “Without falling into determinism, it remains true that contemporary civil societies and the organizations that make them up spring from a path-dependent process, and that their structures, agendas, and forms of political action carry the weight of the institutional and cultural trajectories of their societies.”59
Gellner's definition of a Western civil society refers back to that of de Tocqueville—a series of independent, self-established groups of volunteers that serve as a check to the powers of the state. In Gellner's view, civil society is composed of self-governing units that are nevertheless bound to the state and work within established institutions. Gellner maintains that a strong civil society is tied to democracy in such a way that they both reflect the same kind of society.60 Gellner and De Tocqueville coincide in asserting that this type of civil society is a necessary, albeit not sufficient, condition for the generation and maintenance of a high quality democracy.61
Evidence shows that there is no cultural trait that prevents the development of civil society in Latin America where in recent times there have been rich manifestations of associational life. Since the re-establishment of democracy in the 1980s, old organizations, such as trade unions, professional associations, entrepreneurial groups, churches, community
58 Waisman (2006) 26–31.
59 Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006) 8–9.
60 Ibid.
61 Hall (1995).
56
organizations of all kinds, sports clubs, etc., have sustained a vigorous internal life and a very visible presence. New organizations, such as human rights groups, feminist and ethnic-based groups, advocates of free and fair elections, and groups representing the poor and the excluded, have come into being in the recent period (e.g., the landless movement in Brazil, the organizations of the unemployed, or piqueteros in Argentina, the Zapatistas in Mexico).
Thus, the question is not about the capacity of Latin American societies to develop a civil society but about their modes of interaction with the state. Carlos Waisman explains the link between civil societies and the state as follows:
Two factors have often prevented the intense associational landscape described above from becoming a strong civil society: first, large segments of the society are not organized, and some of the organized ones are neither very autonomous nor very civic. Second, Latin
American political institutions and practices differ substantially from those advocated by the classical liberal model and from the norms and practices that prevail in the established democracies of Western Europe and North America. These weaknesses of civil society, institutions, and political practices, together with the polarization effect of economic liberalization, have given rise to two distinct types of state-society relations: a civic pole, with an involved citizenry that, in the process of advancing or protecting its interests and values, cooperates with the government and, at the same time, limits or balances it. And a marginal or disorganized pole, which is prone to passivity, clientelism, or non-institutionalized forms of behavior. The existence of these two poles has a devastating effect on democracy: it tends to create a bifacial state, that is, one that engages the two emerging poles of society based on
57
different sets of rules. This divergent attitude by the state in turn reinforces the social cleavage that originated it.62
Mexico exemplifies this type of conflictive relationship between state and society but also the organizational capacity of civil society to break this vicious circle and garner support at national and international levels; it also has achieved partial success in balancing the state and influencing the design of its institutions. The path that Mexico has adhered to in order to partially break away from authoritarianism and develop an independent civil society follows.
Some authors trace the existence in Mexico of civic and economic associations, separate from the state, to the mid-18th to the late 19th century, when a wide range of spheres—community-development groups, artisan guilds, patriotic and ethnic associations, cooperatives, literary and scientific societies, professional groups, mutual-aid societies, etc.— practiced “living democracy.” Such a democracy and its attendant civil associations altered in importance based on the relative level of absolute power in the state. Carlos Forment’s accounts of various associations illustrate, however, how public life in Mexico was fragmented, asymmetrical, and culturally hybrid. 63 Following this period of relative civic development, the Porfiriato (1876–1911) put an end to the sociopolitical pluralization, cultural diversification, and the decentralization of public opinion that had been taking place.
The Revolution wiped out any opportunity for public debate. After the armed phase of the
Revolution, the new regime, which became institutionalized during the twenty years that
62 Waisman (2006) 24–31.
63 Forment (2003).
58
followed the Constitution of 1917, concentrated all power in the state with little room for free associations.
Following the strongest corporatist era of the Mexican state between 1940 and 1970, a wave of social movements, civil associations, and a relatively free press emerged as the country began gradually liberalizing. These civil society organizations, however, generally lacked full autonomy from the state and had, therefore, a limited transformative potential.
Further, the lack of contact between emerging social movements and national political parties strictly limited their scope and influence to local settings and made them appear as expressions of social particularism.64
The dynamics of civil society organizing changed during the economic crisis of the
1980s when Mexican government officials were compelled to define a new development model characterized by the liberalization of foreign trade, the reduction of public expenditures and welfare programs, political decentralization, and the privatization of the economy. The deterioration in the living conditions of most Mexicans that took place under these neo-liberal economic policies encouraged the formation of stronger and better-organized civil society initiatives. At the same time, as the country began decentralizing and opening up to a broader participation starting in the mid 1980s, so did civil society began to organize itself formally and to support, in turn, the carrying out of free and fair elections and the strengthening of the political party system.
During the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s, as the corporatist mechanisms of control by the state waned, local civil society organizations took up the task of strengthening
64 Olvera (1997)
59
opposition political parties and putting pressure on state and federal governments to carry out more extensive reforms directed towards the decentralization of the state and the deepening of democratization. Among the latter were demands for legal and political recognition of numerous social and political organizations. During this period, various civil society groups demanded solutions to electoral fraud, government corruption, and declining living standards, and advocated for a stronger citizen input into the design of public policies. Similarly, state and municipal governments intensified their demands for decentralization.
Under these circumstances, the administration of Carlos Salinas de Gortari (1988–
1994) sought to maintain its power through authoritarian and exclusionary practices that included harassment of individuals and civil society organizations through fiscal control mechanisms imposed on them to force their submission to the corporatist system. An example of these mechanisms is the requirement for CSOs to pay taxes and abide by the same legislation as for-profit corporations, thus limiting their growth. The state also publicly ignored social groups and civil society organizations that criticized its authoritarian practices.65
This attitude by the government made CSOs seek ways to strengthen their distinct civic identity, which would allow them to gain fiscal recognition as non-profit organizations.
From these initiatives arose the formation of national networks, that is, the association of several civil organizations with a similar purpose, which garnered support from the various civil groups and brought along a stronger critique of the state’s authoritarian mechanisms.
These networks sought to bring together the efforts, experiences, and interests of numerous
65 Reygadas (2004).
60
men and women committed to the ideas of democracy, dignity, and peace, and to the need for public recognition that not all social life needed to pass through the spheres of government, political parties, and for-profit entities. Faced with strong pressure from numerous civil group networks at a national level, the government responded with an apparently open and progressive discourse toward civil society organizations and eventually granted them the fiscal non-profit status that they sought. 66
Between 1983 and 1996, approximately twenty-four networks of CSOs emerged at state and national level to confront the serious problems caused by the deterioration in the economic conditions and by the political exclusion of a large part of the Mexican population.
Rafael Reyygadas describes this process:
CSOs lobbied in favor of policies related to fair elections, housing, children’s protection, nutrition, environmental protection, migrants and refugees, culture, civic education, protection of the elderly, the protection of human, women’s and indigenous peoples’ rights, and development of rural areas, among others. In the process of forming these networks and coalitions numerous social groups came together, leaving behind the model of isolated and focused work with which the civil society movement had begun. Moreover, the networks succeeded in breaking away from the old corporatist model of organizing under a government entity, which had previously monopolized national representation and even international representation of civil society organizations in Mexico.67
During this period, there were three milestones of an independently organized civil society in different contexts. First was the organization for the aid of victims of the 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, which in the absence of an effective response by the government demonstrated the extraordinary organizational capacity of civil groups. The second was the
66 Ibid.
67 Ibid.49.
61
formation of Alianza Civica in 1994 to promote free and fair elections at a national level, which led to the formation of an independent Federal Electoral Institute (IFE) charged with supervising Mexico’s electoral process. Subsequently, local chapters were created in thirty out of thirty-one Mexican states and over four hundred civic groups -made up of intellectuals, students, progressive members of the Church, ordinary citizens, and technical support groups, among others- joined the nation-wide effort under the umbrella of Alianza Civica. Third was the Zapatista movement of 1994 that advocated for indigenous peoples rights, and received wide support nationally and internationally.
Today in Mexico, CSOs are a vital part of both public and private life. Their numbers have increased greatly over the past decade. They are, for the most part, non-profit organizations that are independent of any affiliations with the state or political parties. They function as a safeguard against the power of the state and often confront the latter, while promoting the advancement of a democratic system.
Although, as I have discussed, the definition of civil society is a subjective one, it is estimated that there were 6,887 identified CSOs in the country in the year 2000, 192 of which operated in the state of Oaxaca.68 CSOs have a strong presence, but they still need to be provided with stronger legal support, including legislation against illegitimate organizations, that is, organizations that are in effect branches of political parties or the state.69 The aim of
CSOs should be not to destroy democratic institutions but to influence them in a way that
68 Centro Mexicano para la Filantropia A.C. in Oxhorn, Philip, Joseph S. Tulchin, and Andrew D. Selee (eds) (2004), Decentralization, Democratic Governance, and Civil Society in Comparative Perspective, Washington D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center Press, p. 71
69 Santín del Río (2004).
62
would make them more responsive to all sectors of society. The Mexican experience shows that the development of civil society is not constrained by cultural “non-Western” traits. In present-day Mexico, the term "civil society" has acquired the meaning of resistance to an authoritarian state as well as a form of political organizing.
2.4 Civil Society and Political Institutions
The second question posed at the beginning of this chapter was the extent, if any, to which civil society can, in the absence of effective public institutions, fulfill some of the functions of the state or the representational role of political parties. The three philosophical traditions discussed above indicate that civil society could play a complementary, a mutually exclusive, or an independent role with respect to the state. "There is nothing in the cooperative tradition, as proposed by Alexis De Tocqueville or any of its contemporary applications or extensions, that implies that there is an inherent antagonism between civil society organizations and the state. On the contrary, from this perspective a strong civil society can increase the capacity of the state to develop and implement policies, and thereby contribute to economic and social development."70 From the radical perspective, the state is necessary at least to legislate in favor of and regulate autonomous communities.
Only the confrontational tradition conceives a potential functional incompatibility between civil society and the state. Even under this tradition, however, neither the state nor civil society can be defined in the absence of the other. The state is more than just a support for civil society. Beyond that, the state provides the legal framework and freedoms without
70 Carroll and Carroll, T. (1999) 1–28.
63
which civil society could not exist. It is ironic then that although civil society in general stands as a balance against the state, without the state regulating them, civil organizations could not function. Neera Chandhoke provides some examples, "A women’s group can hardly demand gender justice without the corresponding demand for state protection and the setting of appropriate institutions. Or civil society groups fighting violations of civil liberties will need the state to punish offenders and to set up human rights commissions, sympathetic judges, and a sensible police force akin to their objectives."71 This interlocking relationship between civil society and state seems to limit, at the very outset, the important factor of self- rule and independence of civil society.
In 1990s Latin America, this quandary did not stop civil groups from mobilizing and playing a significant role in the decline and ultimate downfall of authoritarian rule in almost every country in the region. The central importance of civil society organizations differed in each country. Other factors, such as economic collapse or success, or outside influences, were also relevant in shaping the democratization process. It must be recognized, however, that the increase in the number and strength of civil society organizations that demanded economic reform, defense of human rights, and increased democratic development was a key factor in the demise of all these governments. 72
The crucial role of civil society in Latin America is apparent in the differences that exist across countries in terms of the quality of democracy being implemented. The people of
Latin America long have suffered the malice of social, economic, and political inequity, as
71 Chandhoke (1995) 245-246.
72 O’Donnell, Schmitter, and Whitehead, eds. (1986) 48–57.
64
well as exclusion based on cultural traits. This has made it even more difficult to establish a high quality democracy. Civil Society, however, has often made the difference among these newly minted democratic states on issues such as how strictly the rule of law is adhered to, whether the previously disenfranchised groups—indigenous peoples, women, the poor—are full participants in the state, and whether there is even a basic-level welfare system. These outcomes are explained, in part, by what happens in the realm of associations and movements in which citizens come together to protect and advance their own and shared interests and values.
As I have discussed, however, not all interests and values of civil society are conducive to democracy. As Latin American history painfully illustrates, social organizations or their leaders could also be carriers of political polarization that, if it were very intense, might contribute to the breakdown of democracy itself. This can happen when the pursuit of particular interests weighs more heavily than the preservation of the democratic rules of the game. Drawing on extensive data from military coups in Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, and
Chile in the 1960s and 1970s, Nancy Bermeo shows that the breakdown of democracy was the result of the action of political elites and not initially of society itself. These elites took advantage of existing social cleavages and weak adhesion to constitutional and legal norms, and became the driving force to polarize society and to gain the support of civil organizations for their assumption of power.73
Another classical example of a non-democratic form of articulation between state and society, particularly between the state and labor, in Latin America is state corporatism. In
73 Bermeo (2003).
65
Mexico, this was especially true during the PRI’s hegemonic period and included, in addition to workers, peasants and other service-sector organizations. These groups were afforded political and economic participation, although strongly controlled by the state. Government supervised the formation and operation of unions and other groups. This was especially true throughout Latin America in the aftermath of WWII. During the succeeding decades, there were three main reasons for the relative decline of state corporatism in the region: “. . .the growing autonomy of the subordinate sectors subject to it; the inability of the state to exchange economic and social benefits for organizational dependence; and changes in political culture. However, state corporatism has remained in the state’s “tool box” and some form of state corporatism could reappear in “weak civil-society” situations.”74 People are predisposed to corporatist requests when they are destitute, lack personal rights, and have ineffectual party support. For example, Venezuela’s current Bolivarian movement shows some traits of corporatism.75 In Argentina, on the other hand, there seems to be a growing cultural rejection of corporatism; the movement of the unemployed (piqueteros) has produced autonomous alternatives to clientelism and corporatism by playing the role of channels for distribution of social benefits.76
One measure of the advancement of democracy in Oaxaca, as in the rest of Mexico, has been the relative de-corporatization of the state-society relationship and the strengthening of civil society organizations over the last three decades. Up to the mid-1980s, a strong PRI-
74 Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc (2006) 11.
75 Levine (2006).
76 Cheresky (2006).
66
state corporatism prevailed in Oaxaca. From 1986 to 1998, a relative increase in partisan pluralism at the state and federal levels took place. In this same period at the municipal level, a relative emancipation from partisan clientelism was achieved through legislative reforms in
418 of the 570 municipalities partly in response to indigenous demands that replaced partisan competition with non-partisan electoral practices. This latter type of electoral practices, a defining characteristic of indigenous communitarian life, will be discussed in Chapter Three.
There is a diversity of conditions with regard to the state-society relationship that exists in Latin America today. Active organizations representing broad and diverse interests and values flourish in some countries augmenting the role and quality of democracy. In other countries, the elite organizations and corporatist structures still hold sway. The distinction between civic polities (i.e., those in which particular interests are expressed as part of the general interest) and clientelistic polities (i.e., those in which particular interests are promoted), however, is not straightforward. Simona Piattoni, in her study of eight European countries (England, France, Greece, Iceland, Italy, the Netherlands, Spain, and Sweden) from the late 18th to the 20th century, challenges the view that polities can be divided neatly between these two types of polities. She defines clientelism as “. . .the trade of votes and other types of partisan support in exchange for public decisions with divisible benefits” and emphasizes the voluntary nature of the exchange which although dependent on the relative powers of the parts and the contextual circumstances affecting the supply and demand of the exchanged items, may constitute a legitimate form of interest representation. She suggests that the general interest is an ideal type, and that in reality most policy outputs benefit only selective interests although at different levels of aggregation. The general interest, in her view, really means a compromised political outcome consisting of mutual concessions with
67
which everyone can live.77 While the established democracies in Piattoni’s study certainly have shown clientelistic and corporatist characteristics in the past, and some residues are still around, the difference between them and the new Latin American democracies is substantial enough to produce a different relationship between state and society as a whole.78
The second part of the question posed in this section is whether civil society can fulfill the representational role of political parties. On one hand, it goes without saying that a quality democracy needs a functioning party system. The difference between articulation and aggregation of interests indicates the different functions of interest groups and parties, and the clear need for both. On the other hand, some critics of contemporary neo-De Tocquevillian arguments have claimed that the new emphasis on civil society entails neglect of the party system.79 In contemporary Argentina, for example, the rise of civil society organizations has taken place alongside the decay of political parties. This phenomenon seems to have had positive effects on democracy: the outcome has been a revival of the practices and attitudes characteristic of citizenship, that is, the demand for representation and accountability, which could help regenerate the political system.80
In Oaxaca, the low legitimacy of political parties has led to high voting abstention rates of 65 to 70% in state elections. High abstentionism has allowed the perpetuation in power of traditional political groups and prevented the alternation of party in government thus
77 Piattoni, ed. (2001).
78 Waisman (2006)
79 Foley and Edwards (1996).
80 Cheresky (2006) and Mora y Araujo (2006).
68
undermining democracy. This weakening of the representational role of political parties, however, has not led to their replacement by civil society organizations. Instead, the endeavor of some civil society groups has been twofold. First, these groups have intensified the promotion of citizen participation in elections in order to strengthen partisan competition.
Second, civil society organizations have continued to demand representation and accountability from political parties and the state.
At the municipal level, multicultural reforms of 1995 to 1998 have allowed citizens to elect their officials without the intervention of political parties in 418 of the 570 municipalities of the state. In the remaining 152 municipalities, these constitutional reforms, which as I will discuss in Chapter Five were intended to reaffirm the PRI’s political control in the state, paradoxically have given rise to a stronger political competition (See Figure 5.1,
Chapter 5). In the federal ambit, the pressure of civil society organizations for free and fair elections, and the higher visibility and scrutiny of electoral processes, also have strengthened partisan competition. At this level of politics, the struggle of a good part of civil society is towards higher responsibility of existing or new political parties, rather than for their elimination.
This study agrees with the view that the politics of civil society is a politics of influence: indirect pressure over the political system exercised through criticism, mobilization, and persuasion. Alberto Olvera explains this as follows:
Naturally, this is a limited form of political action because it builds as many scenarios as interests and actors are at play. The large diversity, plurality and political heterogeneity of civil society make legitimate representation practically impossible to carry out. Only in symbolic terms and under exceptional circumstances, such as in campaigns against dictatorship, criminality, impunity of the political class, fraudulent elections, and famine, can civil society claim a collective moral representation. Outside these types of
69
circumstances, a group of civil society organizations can hardly claim any sort of legitimate representation of society. 81
Given the limitations of civil society to induce political change, a debate going on in
Oaxaca today is whether civil society groups should join or support any of the existing political parties or constitute themselves as a new party.82 Those in favor see incorporation into the formal political system as a way to exercise a stronger influence on policy decisions.
Those who oppose the measure see the support of parties as a form of co-optation into the system. Supporters of the latter position see civil society as a social body that enables citizens to influence public decisions from outside the state or parties and to promote a higher efficiency and effectiveness in the exercise of power. This group argues that, conceptually, if civil society were to govern, it would stop being civil society and become instead political society. 83
In sum, civil society and political parties play different and complementary roles in the democratization process. Civil society may, as part of its ethical stance, hold government and political parties accountable. Political parties' job is to aggregate and represent diverse interests, to regulate political conflict, and to negotiate compromises. These are all indispensable processes for good governance.84 As I have discussed, however, some types of civil society organizations or their leaders can undermine democracy. Similarly, by excluding large segments of the population, ineffective political parties, can fail to fulfill their
81 Olvera (2003) 31, 32.
82 Pronunciamiento Conjunto de los Pueblos Indígenas y la Sociedad Civil de Oaxaca (2006); and Esteva (2001).
83 Olvera (2003) 23.
84 Linz and Stepan (1996).
70
representational role. Thus, when it comes to the quality of democracy, political parties, as well as civil society, may be “part of the solution or part of the problem.”85
2.5 Civil Society and the Church
To what extent and in what ways can the Church contribute to the development of civil society?
Max Weber’s The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism86 is a prime example of the influence of religion on economics and politics. Weber’s premise is that a person who adopts Protestant ethics maintains the same values when acting in society as a political and economic being. In the economic arena, Weber establishes a close connection between the ascetic ideal fostered by Calvinism and the rise of capitalist institutions. In both cases, a limitation of consumption, especially of luxury goods, together with a stimulus to profitable activities, leads to an ascetic compulsion to save. While the motivation for such behavior is the search for individual salvation, the unintended consequence of it is the development of capitalism. The effect of unanticipated consequences, however, does not negate the value of looking at ideas as an important influence on socio-economic change.
Anthropologist Abner Cohen suggests that religious groups provide an ideal structure on which to base political organization although that may not be their original intent. The group’s common religious culture determines the rules (both formal and informal) by which its members interact not only socially but also politically. Ross asserts that: “Strong cohesion is built into the groups by sharing some of the most powerful emotions of human existence.
85 Feinberg et al. (2006) 3.
71
Religion legitimizes political arrangements by representing them as part of a universal system of beliefs.”87
The focal point of Weber's study is an analysis of the role that motives play in inducing human action. Interests are also a driving force behind actions, but they distinguish themselves in that they are considered to be a given, whereas motives must be explored in terms of the specific social context in which they arise. Interests are the driving forces behind rational explanations of behavior, while motives play the same role in cultural explanations.
The latter, do not deny, however, the relevance of interests, but see them as one more motive among many.88
Following Weber’s sociological approach to religion, this study suggests that in the
Latin America of the 1960s and later, the values embedded in the emergent religious current of liberation theology motivated the development of civil society in its search for a more just society. These values do no exclude the actions that civil society groups follow in pursuit of their interests. Recent advancement of civil society in Mexico, and indeed across Latin
America, was influenced strongly by the revival of the social doctrine of the Catholic Church that emerged from the Vatican II Council (1962–1965). The Council changed the atmosphere within the Church itself; debate was acceptable and secular ideas were allowed to influence religious thought. In the 1960s, the growth of the Protestant Church and of Spiritist groups had created a new crisis for the Catholic Church in Latin America, on top of the age-old
86 Weber (1958) [1905].
87 Cohen (1969) 210.
88 Campbell (2006).
72
problems of lack of clergy. In addition, the Church had to adopt a position with respect to the insurgent climate that followed the Cuban Revolution.89
A core of progressive bishops, convinced of the need to reconstruct the Church so that it could help reconstruct Latin American societies, began to apply Vatican II to the region and organized the second Latin American Episcopal Conference (CELAM) that was held in
Medellín, Colombia in 1968.90 The Conference denounced social and economic inequality and proclaimed that the Church should exercise a “preferential option for the poor.” The
Medellín document on poverty begins:
The Latin American bishops cannot remain indifferent in the face of the tremendous social injustices existent in Latin America, which keep the majority of our peoples in dismal poverty, which in many cases becomes inhuman wretchedness. A deafening cry pours from the throats of millions of men, asking their pastors for a liberation that reaches them from nowhere else.91
According to documents produced by the Conference, the very structure of the Church would be reformed; this basic change provided the seeds of liberation theology movement.
Liberation theology overturned the long-established process of religious enlightenment and stressed the concept of "listening to the poor" in order to validate theological truth. Indignant about the inequity and poverty of life in Latin America, a small group of radical theologians moved into positions of power within the Latin American Church. They designed a new strategy to allow the Church to accomplish its new mission. They ignored previous coalitions with the political and economic elites and instead reached out to the masses of poor in the
89 Muro (1994).
90 Smith (1991) 236.
73
region. Their goal was to redefine the Church's role to campaign on behalf of social justice, economic equality, human rights, anti-imperialism, and popular political participation. At the
Medellín Conference, the bishops concurred that the new path was the proper and necessary one for the Church now to follow.92
The starting point of liberation theology’s method is to see, live, and understand the reality of those for whom it is intended, the poor. For liberation theologians, there is no separation between the material and spiritual worlds. They propose that there is a close and direct relationship between human emancipation—in the social, political and economic order—and the Kingdom of God. People’s liberation, they state, needs to be achieved in three forms. The first form is the material socio-economic in which the goal is to free people from poverty, make them dignified human beings, and bring them closer to God. Material liberation is accomplished through justice. Thus, the search for justice is also the search for the kingdom of God. Second is the liberation of the spirit by which a person breaks away from sin, comes closer to God in whom the person gains faith, and trusts that His promise of the Kingdom of Heaven will be fulfilled on this earth. Christ redeemed humankind from sin, and thus re-created all people and sought to come closer to them. Salvation consists in the communion of people with God and with their fellow men and women on this earth. Third is the liberation from people’s selfish way of relating to one another, through which a new
91 Gremillion ed. (1976) 18.
92 Smith (1991) 235.
74
person is born; one who acts in solidarity with his or her neighbors through love. The encounter with God takes place through the encounter with people’s neighbors. 93
The three forms of liberation are inseparable and mutually reinforcing. They must all take place at the same time in order for a person to achieve a full communion with God. A person who does not also love his or her fellow human beings and does not seek to procure material liberation cannot be in full communion with God. Thus, a person finds God among people.94 This theological conception served as motivation for lay and religious men and women to bring about a more just society, and to fight for the political, economic, and human rights of society’s most disadvantaged members.
A key instrument in this endeavor was the creation of Base Ecclesial Communities
(BECs), which are circles of discussion and debate from a radical Christian perspective on the every-day problems faced by the urban and rural poor. BECs are neighborhood associations that meet in homes or community centers and emphasize participation, equality, small group
Bible study, lay leadership, consciousness raising, and socio-political activism.95 Since they usually were led by a lay member of the community, BECs offered a solution to the lack of clergy and provided a means for educating the masses at the grassroots level. Pastoral workers and leaders of BECs used Paulo Freire’s method of conscientization96 (consciousness raising) to teach community members to do critical social analysis. Through conscientization, the poor
93 Gutiérrez (1973).
94 Gutiérrez (1973).
95 Smith, Christian (1991), p. 106.
96 Concientization is a pedagogical method which uses the daily experiences of the poor to promote literacy and foster a critical awareness of social reality. Freire (1972) 252 n.27.
75
were empowered and urged to struggle for their freedoms, and also to discharge their own civic duties. Liberation theology counseled the faithful to act to benefit their community.97 As
Phillip Berryman has stated, "BECs offered an excellent ecclesial structure for the introduction propagation, facilitation, and survival of the liberation theology movement".98
At times, the language of liberation theology is similar to Marxist expression, particularly when talking about the need for the “full emancipation of man,” and by espousing class analysis, dependency theory, and, in a general sense, the cause of revolutionary transformation. It is not Marxist, however, in the sense of promoting a centralized state, and it strongly opposes the subordination of individual rights to state power. In this, liberation theologians agree with neo-Marxist Gramscian analysts. Both groups accept the concept of
BECs inasmuch as they defend individual rights in opposition to state dominance. A further association of neo-Marxist ideas with liberation theology stems from the importance that these two currents of thought give to social and political context in shaping any ideological argument. Marxism implies that theologians also should ask how their ideas are influenced by the particular circumstances of time and place. Gustavo Gutiérrez, one of the prominent members of the school of liberation theology, also emphasizes social conditions in his call, “. .
.to write not of poverty, or salvation, or love only as general principles, or indeed as guides to our individual relationship with God, but as processes (not states) which are embodied in the dynamics of social change, occurring in real, as distinct from transhistorical, time.”99 From
97 Klaiber (1998) 10.
98 Berryman (1984) 27–40.
99Lehman (1990) 120.
76
this perspective, it was inevitable for liberation theology to denounce the social and political conditions in the region.
Liberation theologians assert that liberation theology is not derived from Marxism or from any other political theory although it may use Marxism as a tool to explain the social world.100 From these theologians' perspective, Marxism is subordinate to the causes of the poor, and not the other way around.101 Rather than inciting class struggle, as it has been accused, liberation theology only acknowledges a class struggle that already exists and that must be overcome.102 Recourse to violence, however, is never recommended. Nevertheless, liberation theology frequently has been associated with leftist revolutionary movements.
Liberation theologians and pastoral workers did not believe in democracy as practiced in
1960s Latin America, which they saw as representing the interests of the bourgeoisie and therefore not a true democracy. Rather, they praised socialism as the form of political and economic organization most commensurate with social justice. From the 1960s through the
19080s, the Catholic Church of Latin America (with the exception of Argentina) offered a qualified approval to the efforts of liberation theologians in their support of the poor and of human rights.
In Mexico, the drive towards socialism that prevailed in other parts of Latin America during the 1960s and 1970s never had any real chance of success, given the wide-ranging domination of the PRI over political life. In that period, a good part of the Catholic hierarchy,
100 Amar (1984) 427–438.
101 Boff,and Boff (1987) 28.
102 Gutiérrez, Gustavo (1973), pp. 273–274.
77
however, became interested in the organization of society towards serving the needs of the most disadvantaged sectors. The Mexican Church’s Social Secretariat103 contributed to the formation of the first NGOs in the country and subsequently to the formation of human rights and research institutes. In parallel to the social organization of the Church’s hierarchy, Church members at the grassroots level formed BECs. This activism meant that the Church became an actor in the field of social justice that had up to then been monopolized by the state. In the
1960s in Mexico, the only institution with enough independence, power, and resources to endorse the independent organization of civil society under an authoritarian regime was the
Catholic Church.104
Membership in the liberation theology organizations grew rapidly in Latin America from 1968 to 1972. This was caused, in part, by the assimilation of pre-existent social groups like national priest organizations and the Catholic Action movements. The popularity of liberation theology increased through the widespread and insistent educational techniques of
CELAM.105 Subsequently, from 1972–1979, liberation theology faced strong opposition.
From within the Church, conservative bishops, who in the early stages of liberation theology were in a minority, were now gaining more influence in opposing the movement. Many, more moderate bishops, who initially were supportive of the Medellín initiatives thinking they were good for the Church, realized that the controversial situations often created by liberation
103 The Catholic Church’s Social Secretariat was formed in the post-Revolutionary period as the Mexican Bishops’ office in charge of analyzing the country’s social problems and disseminating the Church’s social doctrine. Following the 1968 student movement and the Medellín Conference of Latin American Bishops, the Social Secretariat separated itself from the hierarchy but maintained its mission although now as an independent Church entity.
104 Olvera (2003b) 48.
78
theologians were a detriment to the Church. At that point, they started backing off from the movement. From outside the Church, military regimes suppressed any organization that they perceived to be a threat to the status quo, including student movements, labor unions, political parties, and also Catholic social organizations. Instead of destroying liberation theology, however, these repressive actions compelled people to take sides, and many chose the Church over military rule. 106 Although it was different in each country, the Church was the only institution that was still in a position to denounce the abuse of authority and the violation of human rights by the military. The Church stood firm and condemned the cruelty of many military regimes such as those of Brazil, 1964–1985; Chile, 1973–1990; and Central America, late 1970s to early 1990s.107
In the 1980s, Pope John Paul II, who had assumed the Papacy in October 1978, declared that liberation theology was a deviation from mainstream Catholic thought and began to take measures, such as the dismissal of progressive bishops, priests, and nuns and their replacement by more conservative ones, to undermine its practice. As will be discussed in Chapter Four, Oaxaca was not exempt from this trend. Probably because he had grown up under the repressive communist regime in his native Poland, the Pope feared the perceived
Marxist aspects of liberation theology. He saw liberation theology as a threat against
Catholics freely practicing their traditional faith. He disapproved of liberation theology also
105 Smith (1991) 170.
106 Ibid. 192.
107 Klaiber (1998) 7.
79
on the basis that it excluded a large part of society by addressing only the needs of the underprivileged.108
By the end of the 1980s, a Marxist economic option no longer existed and leftist parties and unions throughout Latin America were ineffectual. At this point, liberation theologians changed direction away from supporting socialism and emphasized instead the
Church’s contribution towards bettering civil society. Ironically, in Mexico, where the prospects for socialism had been among the dimmest during the 1960s and 1970s, the expectation for the strengthening of civil society became in later years one of the greatest in the region. This strength of civil society became a significant part of Mexico’s ongoing process of democratization. By the 1990s, Latin American Catholic hierarchies were returning to more traditional and spiritually oriented goals, putting aside any involvement in politics and social movements. Many of the civil organizations fomented by the Church became independent from the hierarchy and developed their own programs in fields such as the defense of human rights and research on the inequality of socio-economic conditions in the country.
This study claims that liberation theology has shaped the development of civil society in Latin America by emphasizing people’s rights for socio-economic emancipation and dignity as children of God. In Oaxaca, this largely meant developing a theology that understood indigenous culture and supported indigenous causes. Chapter Four provides evidence of civil society organizations and projects in Oaxaca that had their origins in religious motivations and principles, but subsequent to the withdrawal of support by the
108 Bendick and Hewitt (2000).
80
hierarchy, became independent while maintaining the progressive Church’s critical thinking and modes of action. These civil organizations and projects, it is argued here, have participated significantly in the struggle for indigenous rights and have exerted a positive force in shaping democratic practices in the state of Oaxaca.
2.6 Conclusion
The three theoretical perspectives analyzed here and the various controversies to which they have given rise tend to blur the concept of civil society. To define civil society as a space between people and the state is too general and analytically insubstantial. Civil society is not a single unitary concept; it is composed of diverse groups with diverse objectives and modes of action. Although difficult to define, the idea of civil society, like other key concepts in political science, serves to guide research at a theoretical level. In practice, we need to create an operational definition that reflects the particular setting that we are analyzing.109
Chapter Three will attempt to operationalize the concept of civil society in the context of
Oaxaca.
The indeterminacy of the concepts of civil society and democracy also prevents us from establishing any unidirectional causal relationship between the two since neither the independent nor the dependent variables can be defined unequivocally. In assessing the contribution of civil society to democracy, we are confronted with two basic dilemmas: first, associations differ, not all of them are benevolent nor are they without tensions and internal disputes. Some civil associations behave in a supportive manner towards the state, while
109 Carroll and Carroll (2004).
81
auditing governmental practices. They serve as a means for citizens to perform communal responsibilities and participate in democracy. Some other associations or their leaders may carry out their activities by illegal methods, which frequently will promote a climate of democratic decay and may become a path towards clientelism and state corporatism. “Thus, when it comes to the quality of democracy, civil society could be either part of the solution or part of the problem.”110
The quandary is that if civil society is defined as containing only democratically leaning groups, then it is a circular argument to associate civil society with democracy. On the other hand, to incorporate both democratic and non-democratic organizations in civil society would make it impossible for the state to respond to conflicting conceptions of political life.111
The second dilemma is that associational life in some cases may support democratic institutions, as Putnam argues; but when these institutions are absent or ineffective, as in Latin
American states now moving from authoritarian rule, civil society might not be able to carry out its democratizing function. Consequently, a positive influence of civil society on democratic development depends not only on the nature of civil organizations but also in large part on the response by political institutions to civil society’s demands. Although civil society cannot and should not replace the state or political parties, it can attempt to reform and make both of them accountable to the people—if the pre-conditions for the freedom of expression and association are present. The progressive sector of the Catholic Church will be a valuable contributor to this cause.
110 Feinberg, Richard, Carlos Waisman, and Leon Zamosc (2006) 3.
111 Foley and Edwards (1996).
82
In the next chapter, I will analyze three different types of existing civil society organizations in Oaxaca, including their internal contradictions and conflicts, and relate them to the three philosophical traditions discussed in this chapter. I will propose that the main contribution of these civil society organizations lies in generating political plurality outside the ambit of political parties and in conveying indigenous cultural values to liberal institutions. This proposition should not be taken as underestimating the fundamental role of parties in a liberal democracy but as a challenge to find mechanisms to incorporate the culturally differentiated demands of an under-represented sector of society into reformed institutions.
83
CHAPTER 3 CIVIL SOCIETY IN OAXACA
This chapter operationalizes the concept of civil society in the context of Oaxaca as discussed in Chapter Two and analyzes the potential contributions of Oaxacan civil society organizations to democracy. The analysis of any aspect of society in this state requires a previous understanding of the indigenous nature of a large part of its population and of the consequences of this indigeneity.
Today, indigenous people represent almost half of Oaxaca’s 3.5 million inhabitants1 and belong to fifteen different ethno-linguistic groups. In Oaxaca, indigeneity has been considered almost synonymous with poverty. Oaxaca, together with two other heavily indigenous states, Chiapas and Guerrero, is among the poorest in Mexico. Furthermore up to the 1980s, public policy had been based on the assumption that poverty is a consequence of the reproduction of traditional indigenous cultural patterns. In addition to its strong indigenous nature, Oaxaca stands out from the rest of the Mexican states as having the largest number of municipalities. The 570 townships of Oaxaca (most of them with less than 5000 inhabitants) represent almost one quarter of the total number of townships in the country. This highly fragmented community structure originated in the colonial period and has been
1 The percentage of indigenous population varies according to the criteria used in measuring it: according to the 2000 census by Mexican Institute of Statistics (INEGI, XII Censo General de Población y Vivienda), 37% of Oaxacans who are at least five years old and speak an indigenous language are considered indigenous. But, according to the National Indigenous Institute (INI) which uses other criteria in addition to language (self- identification, farming and community forms of organization, cultural values, etc.), indigenous population represented 57% of the state’s population in 1995 (INI, Población total y población indígena estimada por entidad federative, 1995). The difference between these two percentages is indicative of the symbolic and subjective nature of indigeneity, which is particularly hard to define and evaluate.
84
preserved up to the present as a way for local indigenous elites to maintain governmental control over a confined and small territory.2 Both of these characteristics, indigeneity and a fragmented distribution of the population and local authority, are defining qualities of civil society in Oaxaca.
This chapter examines three related questions:
• How has indigeneity shaped the nature and determined the goals of civil society in
Oaxaca?
• How have the structures of intermediation between the state and the indigenous
sector of society in Oaxaca evolved over the last thirty-eight years?
• How and under what conditions have the different types of civil society
organization contributed to the democratization process in the state?
After a brief history of the attitude of the state towards indigeneity in Mexico, this chapter analyzes the motivations, goals, and modes of action of Oaxacan civil society organizations. I propose the co-existence of three different types of civil society organization in Oaxaca, which roughly embody the three philosophical conceptions of civil society posed in Chapter Two. The first, following the “radical” conception, is an informal type of association that is concerned with the every-day life of indigenous people in rural or urban environments and aims to allow them the freedom to follow their traditional cultural, social, and political practices. The second type, according to the “confrontational” tradition, is the more contentious indigenous movement organization that challenges the political system and claims sovereignty of the people over those who govern them. Finally, the third type,
2 Recondo (2007).
85
consistent with the “cooperative” role of associations, is the formally constituted civil organization, NGO, that operates outside the ambit of the state but has been recognized and is regulated by it. Although critical of the state, NGOs in Oaxaca cooperate with it in the fulfillment of social functions, such as the improvement in the educational and health conditions of disadvantaged groups; the promotion of the cultural, economic, or political interests of their members; and the provision of professional services.
The three types of civil society organization described above have played a key role in transforming the state-society relationship from one of co-optation to contestation and in undermining the PRI’s hegemony relative to other political forces, partisan and non-partisan, in the state. One of the main ways that the PRI’s domination has been undercut is the enactment of MCR, which recognize the differentiated culture and rights of the indigenous peoples and offer them greater opportunities for political participation. This chapter focuses on the society side of the evolution of the state-society relationship and Chapter Five on the state.
3.1 The State’s Attitude towards Indigeneity
Indigeneity, a socially constructed category, was created during the Spanish conquest:
“it was the Europeans who created the Indian.”3 During the colonial period, Creole elites imported and adapted Eurocentric racist ideas in order to justify their privileged status. By contrast, Europeans also created the concept of mestizaje, a racial and cultural mix between people and cultures of Europe and America. Indians and mestizos used these categories to
3 Knight (1990) 75.
86
their advantage when trying to obtain concessions or prevent discrimination. The analysis of race in Latin America is complicated because race always is defined subjectively, either by external agents or by self-perception. As opposed to the United States where the social definition of black and non-black is relatively clearly established, racial mixtures in Latin
America represent a broad spectrum and not a dichotomy. Today in Latin America, somebody is Indian when he or she has a sense of belonging to an indigenous community—one in which indigenous language, culture, and racial characteristics predominate.4 This is naturally a vague definition as there is no genetically scientific way to define the term.
The idea that poverty is a consequence of indigeneity has been reflected explicitly in public policy since the late 19th century when a strong sense of nationalism based on mestizaje developed. From that time up to the 1980s, the goal of public policy was to replace
“backward” indigenous customs with “modern” liberal practices. Despite conceptual complications in differentiating between mestizos and Indians, some estimates indicate that by
1910 mestizos made up 43% of the country’s population, and the indigenous people’s share had decreased to only 37%.5 As in other parts of Latin America during the 1920s and 1930s,
Mexican mestizo intellectuals exalted the mixed race that they considered to be the identity and the essence of the nation. This intellectual current, known as indigenismo, emphasized the incorporation of the marginalized indigenous people into the nation by providing them with education and by inducing them to change their customs to those of a modern urban life.6
4 Adapted from Caso (1948).
5 Aguirre Beltrán and Pozas (1954) 176.
6 Herández-Díaz (2001) 18.
87
Indigenista intellectuals, being part of the post-revolutionary governing elite, influenced public policy towards the goal of forging a population with a common and homogeneous culture that used Spanish as its vernacular language. All aspects of indigenous culture, including language, were undervalued by highlighting the superiority of the cultural Hispanic heritage.
Alan Knight questions the real intentions of indigenistas to whom he attributes the use of mestizaje in favor of their political ambitions. In Mexico, Knight suggests that the discourse of mestizaje was instrumental to the post-revolutionary elites’ programs; first, because it intended to unify the nation; and second, because it reflected the racial characteristics of northern Mexicans, many of whom had come out ahead of the Revolution; and third, because the cult of mestizaje allowed these new elites to differentiate themselves from the Europeanized ethos of the pre-revolutionary regime.7 In other Latin American contexts, Marisol de la Cadena has criticized this process of “education” and “civilization” of the Indian for legitimizing discrimination: Indians were accepted to the extent that they became “educated”; otherwise it was legitimate to discriminate against them.8
By 1948, the indigenista policy was institutionalized firmly in Mexico by the creation of the National Indigenous Institute (INI), whose mission was carrying out the cultural homogenization of the nation and eliminating “backward” autochthonous practices.9 During the administration of President Luis Echeverría (1970–1976), several organizations made up
7 Knight (1990) 86.
8 De la Cadena (2000).
9 Aguirre Beltran (1988) 24.
88
of indigenous people were sponsored by the state with the same intention of “helping” them to become part of the nation. Throughout the 1970s, however, some of these organizations and others that emerged in subsequent years, several of them in Oaxaca, sought to become independent from the state in order to vindicate genuine indigenous culture. The government reacted by trying to co-opt the leaders of these organizations and make them part of the state’s bureaucracy.10
Contrary to the efforts of the Mexican state, a new “critical current” emerged in the late 1970s that advocated a new attitude towards the indigenous question.11 This current saw the construction of the “Indian” category as an interruption of an autochthonous cultural process by the Spanish conquest and sought to restore this process back to the indigenous people. Instead of stressing incorporation into modernity as indigenismo, this new trend recognized the right of indigenous people to continue being different, to speak their own languages, to preserve their own culture, and to own and cultivate their land according to their own practices. These ideas were put together by indigenous and mestizo intellectuals and were known as indianismo.12 Starting in 1983, this critical current began having an impact on the design of indigenous policies. At this time, the struggle in defense of indigenous identity was to re-emerge and to assume central stage in the national political debate. Oaxaca and Chiapas were two key battlegrounds of this struggle. Mexico was then categorized as a multiethnic nation that respected the cultural development of the different indigenous groups. At the same
10 Sarmiento Silva (1991) 100–101.
11 Warman et al., (1978) 31.
12 Hernández (1988).
89
time, the state acknowledged the economic and political exclusion to which the indigenous people had been subject for many centuries.13 The administration of President Miguel De la
Madrid (1982–1988) designed and implemented programs to preserve indigenous cultures and languages, and to address the marginalization of indigenous people.
Alan Knight questions the intellectual honesty of the indianista current and suggests that by attempting to praise Indianness, this paternalistic perspective assumes the inferiority of the Indian condition and the existence of racial hierarchies. In addition, Knight asserts that the indianista discourse that praises the Indians has not been consistent with their actual socio- economic conditions. Indianismo softened but did not end discrimination against Indians, who will continue being discriminated against until the socio-political circumstances that nurture their condition are changed radically.14
In 1990 during the administration of President Salinas de Gortari (1988–1994),
Mexico ratified Convention 169 of the International Labor Organization (ILO) on the rights of indigenous peoples.15 In 1992, Article 4 of the Mexican constitution was reformed to declare the multiethnic character of the nation, thus praising the indigenous contribution to the cultural diversity of the country.16 Cultural recognition, however, became more a symbolic than a real change in indigenous peoples’ lives. Not until the Zapatista uprising of January 1,
1994 would the “indigenous question” be examined again. At that time, the debate over the
13 Varese (1983) 29–41 and Baez Jorge (1985).
14 Knight (1990).
15 Convention 169 of the ILO specifies that: “indigenous peoples must have the right to preserve their own customs and institutions, as long as these are not incompatible with the fundamental rights defined by the national judicial system nor with internationally recognized rights.”
90
recognition of cultural diversity and the rights of indigenous peoples came to the top of the agenda in Chiapas and Oaxaca, and, indeed, in Mexico as a whole. Also at this time, the state began opening up opportunities for decentralization and facilitating the development of formal civil society organizations. The period since 1990 has witnessed the emergence in
Oaxaca of a “politics of recognition”17—the process of political reform intended to formally recognize cultural diversity and indigenous peoples’ rights.
On September 13, 2007, the United Nations General Assembly adopted the
Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples by a vote of 143 to 4 against (Australia,
Canada, New Zealand, and the USA), and 11 abstentions. The Declaration, which had been under development for more than two decades within the UN system, recognizes the rights of indigenous peoples to the lands, territories, and natural resources that are critical to their ways of life, and affirms that indigenous peoples, like all peoples, have the right to self- determination. It also provides guidance on basic measures needed to ensure the dignity, survival, and well being of some of the world's most impoverished and marginalized peoples.18
16 Hindley (1996).
17 The term comes from Taylor (1992).
18 United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (2007) 61st Session of the General Assembly, Agenda item 68, 12 September 2007. (UN Website consulted on July 2, 2008: http://www.un.org/ga/61/news/news.asp?NewsID=23794&Cr=indigenous&Cr1=)
91
3.2 Indigenous Civil Society
The first and most generalized type of civil society organization in Oaxaca takes place in the non-liberal context of indigenous communities.19 This form of association is characterized by the practice of commonality, that is, the understanding of life as a collective enterprise as opposed to an individualistic logic that favors individual rights over communal values.20 Although commonalty has been practiced since colonial times in most of the 10,000 indigenous communities of the state, indigenous communitarian life frequently has been transformed throughout history by the influence of foreign and domestic forces.
Spanish colonization diverted indigenous cultures through the syncretic melding of
Catholicism with pre-existing indigenous religions by selectively preserving and restructuring indigenous institutions of self-government, often with the collusion of traditional indigenous elites, and by re-creating indigenous communities around “Indian towns” built by the colonial authorities to fragment and disarticulate larger indigenous communities. One example of the fragmentation of indigenous cultures was the division that each of the sixteen ethno-linguistic groups of Oaxaca underwent during the colonial period to accommodate colonial administrative structure. What we find today is a subdivision of each of these groups into multiple townships and communities that lack a unifying collective project. One of the current aspirations of some of these ethno-linguistic groups is to recover their collective perspective
19 Esteva (2001) 15–16.
20 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 19.
92
by creating a pan-ethnic organization that brings together the different communities and enables them to reconstruct a broad cultural project.21
The 19th century formation of a liberal nation-state also had a strong repercussion on indigenous systems by, among other policies, emphasizing private property, legislating against the traditional collective ownership of land, and promoting a universal notion of citizenship that ignored non-liberal modes of political participation.
During the mid and late 20th century, the PRI-State established a clientelistic relationship with indigenous communities by which the latter expressed their loyalty towards the party by voting collectively in favor of its candidates. This loyalty probably would not have existed had it not been for the respect that the PRI-state showed in exchange for the internal forms of social and political organization, consistent with the paternalistic indigenista and indianista intellectual currents. Thus, far from destroying traditional forms of communitarian organization, the PRI incorporated them and made them a fundamental piece of its system of domination. It turned indigenous community life into what Jan Rus has called,
“institutional revolutionary community.”22 The PRI affiliated local bosses (caciques) into the party and supported their administrative and political structures. In this way, caciques accumulated enough power to direct a town assembly’s decision in favor of the PRI’s interests. Towards the outside of the community, the cacique claimed to respect the decisions of the assembly and to endeavor to preserve traditional practices. 23 In effect, while allowing
21 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 14–15.
22 Rus (1995) 251–277.
23 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 27.
93
traditional practices to take place, PRI caciques would superimpose the party’s candidacy on the man nominated by the assembly thereby ensuring his victory and the recognition by the state’s electoral system.24
In sum, “indigenous communitarian life” is a contested term that frequently has been molded to fit particular political interests. The forms of indigenous social organization that we observe today reflect a number of contradictions that result in part from these frequent intrusions by foreign actors.
Although indigenous communitarian life is largely non-liberal, this form of association is considered here a form of civil society because it displays several of the central characteristics that make up a strong liberal civil society—a dense associational web; a high degree of autonomy from the state; and a high level of self-regulation. As an ideal type, indigenous communitarian life has the potential for developing trust and partnership among members of the community and increasing these members capacity to solve local problems, define their identities, and adapt to contingencies. An Indian community is not only a place where most of its members live, but also a place where they work and spend most of their lives, where everybody knows each other and builds strong personal relationships. Although compliance with communitarian tasks is not voluntary but socially coerced, voluntarism might not be a requirement of associations under a non-liberal framework.
An Indian community cannot be conceived without the capacity to govern itself through authorities elected by community members in an assembly. Following rules that change from one community to another, the community’s plenary assembly, which is made up
24 Recondo (2007).
94
of adult or married members, meets regularly to discuss matters of general interest. Among them, the designation of municipal authorities according to a set of procedures known as usos y costumbres (traditional practices) is one of the most distinct traits of this form of local government.25
Authorities are elected by the assembly to carry out different posts; what anthropologists call the civic-religious hierarchy, or cargo system. In theory, responsibilities and prestige for undertaking these functions increase progressively. The hierarchy includes religious (organizing religious celebrations, maintaining the Church, etc.), administrative
(undertaking different positions in the town’s council), and agrarian (overseeing the use of communal lands or ejidos26) functions. Other chores, such as the administration of schools, government social programs, or public works, are also part of municipal functions. All public posts are mandatory and are conceived as an unpaid service to the community. Depending on the hierarchical level, assignments last from one to three years. In most cases, members of the municipal council change every year, instead of the three specified by law. Each assignment is followed by a recess of variable length. Every member of the community must perform a minimum of functions but only a few attain sufficient influence and prestige to become part of the highest hierarchy: the council of elders.27
25 Ibid.
26 Ejido: an area of farmland held in communal ownership but divided into separate family plots for individual use.
27 The elders are individuals who usually have assumed all the main posts of the communitarian hierarchy. Because of the moral authority that they acquire, they fulfill the role of advisors to municipal authorities. Up to the 1960s and 1970s, they had a decisive influence on all aspects of collective life including the designation of the members of the town’s council. Nowadays their role is very variable across communities. Although ethnographic studies have shown evidence of their considerable influence, they are no longer the primary decision-makers on the designation of the town’s council. The outgoing officials are frequently the first ones to
95
Although not all of the indigenous communities carry out electoral processes in the same fashion, a recent survey among more than 400 municipalities identified some common traits.28 In most instances, community members who are to occupy municipal posts are designated by consensus in the plenary assembly. Citizenship, which enables people to run for office and to vote in the assembly, is typically not universal. Rather, it depends on the extent in which a community member fulfills his or her communitarian duties. The elders, the outgoing officials, and natives of the community evaluate the merits of each person in complying with community norms and values. In addition to moral qualities, those aspiring to run for office also must have intellectual or technical abilities and sufficient economic solvency to be able to support their family during their unpaid period of service. In most municipalities, age is not a requirement for citizenship. Instead, the person must be married and have participated in community services. People who have been absent from the community for some time usually cannot satisfy the requirements of community service. They may be allowed, however, to compensate for their absence by making monetary contributions.
A citizen then, is someone who is recognized as a member of the community and a family; and whom the community has validated his or her membership according to his or her compliance with the local institutions and norms.
In approximately 30% of the surveyed municipalities, women do not participate in the assembly. Men frequently vote as representatives of their entire family and cast several votes.
propose a list of candidates to occupy public posts. And the nominations are subject to the approval of the plenary assembly. Only some distorted versions of traditional processes attribute an unlimited power to the elders. (Recondo 2007).
28 Velázquez Cepeda (2000).
96
The fundamental principle of a republican regime “one person one vote” does not apply in this electoral system. Suffrage is not secret either since it frequently takes the form of raising hands or standing behind the selected candidate during the assembly. Non-Catholics are sometimes not prepared to comply with the religious part of the cargo system.29
In reality, traditional practices are very flexible, vary significantly with time and location, and are seldom carried out exactly as described above. Inevitably, these practices also are immersed in a complex interplay of power relationships within the community. The idealized description of the electoral process, for example, according to which the selection of candidates made by the assembly depend only on criteria related to community service, should be taken with reservation.30 Choosing officials by traditional practice is not automatically more democratic than other methods. It can even pave the way for continuing boss rule in communities where the system is not well developed. Traditional practices can also be the means to achieve self-government and to root-out local bosses.31
Traditional practices have been criticized for being authoritarian, discriminating against women, non-Catholics, and non-residents, and having ambiguous criteria with respect to age requirements for citizenship.32 Other analysts have questioned the primordialist position that sustains the communitarian ethos of indigenous peoples and suggest that ethnic identities may be readily shaped to fulfill an instrumental function.33 This last criticism
29 Ibid.
30 Recondo (2007)
31 Hernández-Navarro (1999) 167–168.
32 Bartra (1998) 187–188.
33 Eisenstadt (2006) 107–129.
97
maintains that indigenous people use or suppress their indigenous identity depending on what benefits they want to obtain. In a recent survey,34 Eisenstadt found that rather than limiting themselves exclusively to the use of traditional practices, indigenous peoples showed a predisposition toward utilizing social and political institutions provided by the state. For example, indigenous people, particularly from Oaxaca, demonstrated attitudes favorable to the application of constitutional law rather than to traditional practices when they were able to derive tangible benefits from abiding to the first. Eisenstadt suggests that only by keeping both options, traditional practices and constitutional law, would “Indians by choice” be able to maintain their own institutions and to play a greater role in designing those used by the broader state. He attributes this attitude to the influence of state corporatism practiced by
Mexico’s ruling elites when attempting to assimilate indigenous communities. In another part of the survey, indigenous people showed stronger individualistic attitudes than their supposedly intrinsic communitarian values. For Eisenstadt, these findings imply that the ethnic component of people’s environments is less fixed and plays a less permanent role in shaping their attitudes than the socio-economic and geographic conditions they face.
34 The survey was carried out among 5,280 respondents in the highly indigenous states of Chiapas and Oaxaca, and non-indigenous Zacatecas. Two sets of attitudes were tested through the construction of latent variable clusters measuring the degree of a respondent’s association with an individual view of identity (defined mostly in relation to oneself) versus a collective view of identity (heavily influenced by group perceptions) and whether the respondent more readily considered him-or herself “statists”—associated more with the Mexican state (as per much of the literature arguing for a more corporatist construction of state-society relations) — or “communalists”— (as per arguments favoring indigenous autonomy from the state) identified more with traditional communal groups outside of the state’s official “corporate” organizations for channeling mobilization. The ultimate objective was to compare indigenous and non-indigenous positions on a two-dimensional model to differentiate Western or “modern” worldviews (which here correspond to a composite individualist/statist category) from indigenous or “traditional”ones (corresponding to a composite collectivist/communalist category).
98
These criticisms of traditional practices are part of a broader debate between, on the one hand, those who defend traditional practices as a right of the indigenous peoples to govern themselves through a communitarian democracy which they claim to be superior to that practiced by political parties; and on the other, those who insist on a universal notion of citizenship and the even application of constitutional law for all citizens. The assessment of the contribution of this type of civil society to democracy depends on which of the two views are held. Indigenous communitarian life is, according to the first view, a contribution to direct democracy. On the other hand, the second view would suggest that this type of civil society works against representative democracy by undermining the role of political parties and the universal notion of citizenship.
The focal point of this debate is the question of autonomy.35 Should the indigenous peoples of Oaxaca have the right to organize and govern themselves according to their tradition even in conflict with the laws that govern the rest of the country? Or, can liberal and non-liberal forms of social and political organization be made compatible by accepting cultural diversity as part of a single heterogeneous nation? Are multicultural reforms populist measures and a path to continued rule by political bosses? Or, are they an affirmation of indigenous peoples’ rights and the route to national democratization?
This debate on multiculturalism, which is being carried out among indigenous and non-indigenous intellectuals and scholars from various parts of the world, was sparked most
35 Autonomy is defined in Article 3. IV of the Law of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and Communities of the State of Oaxaca as the expression of self-determination of indigenous peoples and communities (…) to adopt their own decisions and establish their own practices related to their worldview, indigenous territory, land, natural resources, socio-political organization, administration of justice, education, language, health and culture. Periódico Oficial del Estado de Oaxaca, 19 June, 1998.
99
recently in Mexico by the Zapatista uprising of 1994 and spread to Oaxaca when indigenous movement organizations, the second type of civil society organization in the state, pressed for constitutional reforms that recognized indigenous rights. This debate, its antecedents, and its outcome in Oaxaca are the subject of the following section.
3.3 Indigenous Movement Organizations.
Indigenous movement organizations, groups of indigenous men and women who come together to form a formal organization and confront the state, are the second type of civil society organization in Oaxaca. These organizations are made up of the same individuals who live a communitarian lifestyle, but who, beyond their communities, challenge the political system by, among other actions, proposing MCR. These organizations sustain that MCR contribute to democracy by expanding the political options of the indigenous people outside the realm of parties, which they consider unrepresentative, and by increasing the level of inclusion of the indigenous people into politics. In order to understand the origins, objectives, contributions to democracy, and prospects of this type of civil society organization, five related questions, all in the context of Oaxaca, are posed in this section:
• When, how, and for what purpose do indigenous organizations emerge?
• What is at stake in constitutional reforms that acknowledge multiculturalism, and
what was the process by which MCR were enacted?
• What have some of the challenges of implementation of MCR been?
• To what extent and in what ways have MCR contributed to democratization?
• What are the prospects for the contribution MCR to democracy within a neo-
liberal economic context?
100
3.3.1 Antecedents of Indigenous Movements.
During the late 1970s and the early 1980s, a significant number of mobilizations and debates related to indigenous rights promoted by civil society organizations took place in
Oaxaca. At least a dozen indigenous organizations were formed throughout the state with the main purpose of confronting cacicazgo—the concentration in a few hands, usually related to the PRI, of the administration of the community’s financial and natural resources in the majority of the state’s municipalities. This is the first fundamental way in which indigenous organizations fought to transform the state-society relationship from co-optation to contestation. One of the seminal experiences in articulating indigenous demands was the First
Indigenous Congress organized by the Catholic Church in San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas in 1974.36 The Congress had repercussions in Oaxaca, among others, through the action of
Catholic clergymen and women who worked and carried their experiences forward across both states.
With a few exceptions, such as the COCEI, the indigenous organizations that emerged during this period usually did not affiliate themselves with any political party. Free partisan competitions in the community or the nomination of partisan representatives for state congress were not among their initial aims.37 Rather, these organizations sought to undermine the PRI’s political hegemony, to gain control over their natural and agricultural resources, and
36 The Congress,attended by over one thousand delegates representing hundreds of indigenous communities, was a forum for the denunciation of countless grievances and entrenched structural injustices regarding land distribution, labor conditions of agricultural workers, commerce, education and health. The initiative came from Chiapas governor Manuel Velazco Suarez who asked Bishop Samuel Ruiz to lead the organization of the Congress. Contrary to the government’s original populist and clientelist intentions, the Church’s involvement facilitated indigenous control over the event and a denunciation of government policy. (Harvey [1998] 76–78).
37 Martínez Vázquez (1990).
101
to strengthen their culture.38 These organizations’ leaders and members brought their communitarian ethos to the fore, particularly with respect to their sovereignty over those who governed them. They organized frequent forums and regional meetings with the theme, “the rights of the indigenous people.”
During the 1980s, indigenous organizations developed with the support of external agents such as the Catholic Church, the state’s local of the national teacher’s union, and external civil society organizations, bringing together local groups of farmers, teachers, handcrafters, consumption cooperatives, organized women, migrants, and others.39
Progressives within the Catholic Church played a key role in this process. They promoted initiatives for indigenous groups’ self-government and helped educate the new indigenous intellectual elite.40 Some examples of these enterprises are discussed in Chapter Four.
Schoolteachers, in turn, attempted to disengage many of the state’s corporatist arrangements by supporting the formation of new political elites and building strong networks with indigenous communities, particularly through the support of bilingual education. Many of these teachers were indigenous men and women interested in preserving indigenous culture through education. They were, however, also part of a statewide union and often got involved in internal struggles of the union movement. Thus, the teacher’s actions were not directed always to genuinely recovering indigenous cultures. On occasion, they became cultural
38 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 33–34.
39 Hernández-Díaz (2001).
40 Muro (1994).
102
brokers at the service of institutional interests.41 The state attempted, some times successfully, to incorporate many of these organizations and leaders into its ambit by creating regional units that pretended to look after, but in fact controlled, indigenous claims.
As the 1980s evolved, these organizations articulated a set of demands directly related to the recognition and indigenous rights agenda. The First International Forum on the Human
Rights of Indigenous Peoples, held in the city of Matías Romero, Oaxaca, in 1989, was a key moment in this process of Indian struggle in Oaxaca when the recognition and indigenous rights demands came to the top of the organizations’ political agenda. After the Congress, indigenous mobilization continued in a number of massive forums of debate and demand making, and as the Quincentenary (12 October, 1992) approached, in marches, rallies and protest campaigns.42
On October 1993, Mixe indigenous organizations held an Indo-Latin American symposium in the town of Tlahuitoltepec in the northern sierra of Oaxaca; some twenty indigenous groups from Latin America participated. At the symposium, they discussed indigenous right to self-determination—understood as the right of indigenous communities to carry out their own political, economic, social, and cultural practices. Under the leadership of
Mixe intellectual, Floriberto Díaz, the symposium resulted in, among other pronouncements, a proposal for an electoral reform that would enable indigenous groups to designate their own representatives in state and federal congresses without their affiliation to any political party. 43
41 Bartolomé (1994) 79.
42 Anaya-Muñoz (2006).
43 Recondo (2007) 184–185.
103
The Zapatista uprising of January 1, 1994 sparked further meetings, fora, and demonstrations with local, national, and international scope in support of indigenous rights.
Between April and November of 1994, indigenous organizations held four fora, exclusive of any governmental participation, in which they rallied behind indigenous rights, culture, and autonomy. Although the statements and conclusions of these fora were not always the same since each expressed what the participants thought were the legitimate claims of the Mexican indigenous people,44 a common element of the indigenous discourse was the claim for autonomy. Autonomy is understood as the indigenous peoples’ right to have their own forms of government and social life, to decide on the use of their natural and financial resources, to have their own jurisdiction, to use their own language, and to live according to their own culture. Discrepancies existed on whether this autonomy should be granted to individual communities or to broader regions made up of several communities but comprising a single ethno-linguistic group.
Indigenous intellectuals emphasize that autonomy should not be confused with sovereignty, which would imply their secession from the rest of the nation.45 The aim of the indigenous peoples is to have the freedom to live according to their culture together with other cultures and social groups that make up a heterogeneous nation. The challenge was then, and still is today, to find ways in which these demands can be made compatible with the liberal institutions of the state that surrounds them, in order to create a multicultural state that formally recognizes in its constitution the right of different cultures to co-exist within its
44 Hernández-Díaz (2001) 285.
45 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 17.
104
territory. The key for the resolution of this issue is, as pressed by indigenous movements themselves, the mediation of differences by alternate discourses as well as by novel institutional mechanisms.46
During the early 1990s, but more intensely after the Zapatista uprising, the emphasis of the indigenous struggle in Oaxaca shifted from defeating cacicazgo to pressing for the legislation and enforcement of multicultural reforms. These reforms, based on the initiatives of civil society, would become a central element in the transformation of the state-society relationship. There were three main obstacles to accomplish multicultural reforms. The first was the view of traditional elites and private interests that indigenous demands for territorial autonomy, which is central to their efforts to build multiethnic pluricultural states, is a threat to national sovereignty. This perception is reflected in the refusal by federal and state legislators to extend the jurisdiction of multicultural reforms beyond municipalities. Second was the division among indigenous peoples themselves on whether autonomy should be exercised at the community (sub-municipal) level, the municipal level, or across more extensive multiethnic regions. The third difficulty was in operationalizing claims for territorial autonomy as indigenous populations become more urbanized. 47
3.3.2 Post-1992 Goal of Indigenous Movements: Multicultural Reforms.48
The two PRI governors of Oaxaca, Heladio Ramírez (1986–1992) and Diódoro
Carrasco (1992–1998), who governed during periods of intense activism by indigenous
46 Oxhorn (2001) 163.
47 Van Cott (2000) 275.
48 This section follows closely Recondo (2007), Chapter 4.
105
movement organizations, perceived the significance of the pronouncements that arose from multiple indigenous fora as well as the need to regain legitimacy for their party. Ramírez, an indigenous man himself, launched the “politics of recognition”—the process of formal recognition of cultural diversity and of indigenous peoples’ rights—and formally acknowledged the multicultural nature of Oaxacan society. In 1990, two years before the federal government, he promoted amendments to six articles of the state’s constitution. The contents of these amendments guaranteed the rights of the indigenous peoples to follow their culturally differentiated political, social, and economic practices, including their entitlement to receive bilingual and bicultural education (Article 15); to practice tequio, unpaid community service (Article 12); to follow their own judicial systems in various fields including the resolution of agrarian conflicts (Article 16); to follow their traditional electoral practices (Article 25); to re-define the limits of their communities (Article 94); and to receive the state’s protection of their cultural and environmental patrimony against development or tourist projects (Article 151).49 These amendments were passed by the legislation, but lacked specific mechanisms for their implementation. In particular, Article 25 did not specify how traditional electoral practices were to be implemented and protected; a much more detailed code still had to be defined. Thus, although largely symbolic, these reforms represented significant steps in favor of indigenous causes; the constitutional bases for more specific and detailed codes were now in place. Despite their symbolism, these initial reforms stimulated further indigenous movements and the formulation of more articulated demands.50
49 Anaya-Muñoz (2006) 118–119.
50 Recondo (2007) 183–184.
106
Governor Carrasco, who had served as coordinator of social development and basic infrastructure during Ramírez’s administration, had developed a strong working relationship with several indigenous organizations; he intensified his predecessor’s drive towards multicultural reforms.51 One further critical event, however, had a definitive influence on
Governor Carrasco’s decision to push these reforms forward; the Zapatista uprising in
Chiapas placed the demands of indigenous organizations at the center of the federal political agenda. Faced with the strengthening of indigenous organizations in Oaxaca, the government feared a contagion by the Zapatista movement. In order to avoid it, the governor decided to respond to an old demand at the very same time that opposition parties threatened to break the official party’s monopoly.52 Hence, Governor Carrasco’s main motivation to carry out these reforms was the preservation of governability by avoiding a contagious effect from neighboring Chiapas and the recovery of legitimacy for his party.
On March 1994, shortly after the Zapatista initial uprising, Carrasco launched a program aimed at establishing a “new accord” with the indigenous peoples.53 In this program, he brought to the fore the demands that indigenous organizations had been formulating over the past few years, including the recognition of traditional electoral practices and the participation of indigenous representatives in public policy decisions. In order to design his program, he convoked a group of advisors, indigenous and non-indigenous intellectuals and scholars, who reinforced in him the idea that MCR would benefit not only the indigenous
51 Ibid. 226.
52 Ibid.
53 Carrasco (1994) 201.
107
peoples but also his administration by preventing an uprising similar to the one in Chiapas and by legitimizing his party. These were also powerful arguments to gain the support of the federal government, which was interested in suppressing the Zapatista effect, to carry out the reforms in Oaxaca.
Thus, Oaxaca became a laboratory in which constitutional amendments that the
Zapatistas demanded at a national level could be discussed and tested at the state level. It is not unreasonable to assume that there was a similarity between the demands of the Zapatistas and those of Oaxacan indigenous organizations since there was a strong interaction between indigenous intellectuals of both states.54 The group of non-indigenous intellectuals and scholars who advised Governor Carrasco were also among the advisors to the Zapatistas.55
Governor Carrasco’s program was wide ranging. Among the most concrete and meaningful reforms were the amendment to the Electoral Code, which took place in two stages in 1995 and 1997, and the creation of the Attorney’s Office for the Protection of
Indigenous Groups in 1994. Other more symbolic reforms—meaning that they still needed the definition of precise instruments for their implementation and enforcement—were, in 1994, a further amendment of Article 16 of the State Constitution on the rights of each of fifteen ethno-linguistic groups of the state, and, between 1995 and 1998, the adjustment of several secondary laws to recognize the differentiated culture and practices of the indigenous peoples in areas such as education, health, agrarian conflicts, the penal code, telecommunications, social policy, and municipal administration. In 1998, Governor Carrasco promoted and State
54 Anaya-Muñoz (2006) 125.
55 Anaya-Muñoz (2006) 95.
108
Congress approved, although with strong objections from some prominent PRI members at state and federal levels, a rather broad and promising “Indigenous Law,”56 probably the broadest and most advanced in the country, which sought to encompass all of the above and further reforms.57
The governor set the priority on the amendment of the electoral code, which was not only one of strongest demands of the indigenous peoples, but also the most visible one. Thus, the governor perceived that this reform would contribute most significantly to regaining legitimacy for his party. Besides the recognition of traditional practices, electoral reform included the re-design of the mechanisms for the designation of the members of the State
Electoral Institute (IEE) and the re-definition of these members’ attributions; the process of validation of municipal elections; the definition of electoral districts and the allocation of seats in the State Congress; party and campaign financing; election dates; rules for access to media by parties and candidates; and procedures to resolve local electoral conflicts.58
Despite the political dominance of the state’s executive and his party, electoral reform involved complex negotiations among political parties, the State Congress, indigenous organizations, and other civil society actors. On October 1994, Governor Carrasco announced the creation of a set of regional fora in which the sixteen ethnic groups of Oaxaca would draft a specific proposal to amend the state’s electoral code. The Governor committed to endorsing the indigenous peoples’ proposal and to respecting traditional electoral practices and the
56 “Ley de Derechos de los Pueblos y Comunidades de Oaxaca,” Gobierno del Estado de Oaxaca, Secretaría de Asuntos Indígenas, 1998.
57 Anaya-Muñoz (2006) 123.
58 Memoria de los Procesos Electorales de Diputados y Concejales de 1995, 32–39.
109
decisions reached on local elections by the indigenous communities’ assembly.59 In early
1995, the governor formally launched the debate on electoral reform among political parties and the State Congress. The first phase of the debate took place among representatives of the main political parties between February and April of 1995 in the former Convent of Santo
Domingo, a landmark colonial building in the city of Oaxaca. In parallel, State Congress organized close to twenty regional fora to allow citizens to express their views on electoral reform. Indigenous organizations took this opportunity to pose their proposals on the inclusion of traditional practices in the electoral code.60
The reform to the electoral code would involve the formal recognition of what had already been taking place in practice in a large number of indigenous communities: a direct election of municipal officials by the community’s assembly. The intended innovation of the reform was to eliminate the superimposition of a party candidacy, usually that of the PRI, on the person elected by the assembly. Instead of being just candidates, the people elected by the assembly would now be elected officials.
Since not all 570 municipalities of Oaxaca carry out traditional practices, one of the fundamental issues debated by the parties was which municipalities ought to be recognized as users of traditional practices and which as users of the party system. Thus, the reform would produce a hybrid electoral system; some municipalities would elect their officials through traditional practices, and others would elect them through partisan competition.
59 Recondo (2007) 205–206
60 Ibid. 208.
110
Because the PRI had intertwined its corporatist procedures with traditional practices for so many years, the distinction between the two systems was not always straightforward.
Parties contested the classification of municipalities into one of the two electoral systems in hopes of retaining or avoiding losing ground to the opposition. If a party had a strong position in a municipality, it fought to classify that municipality as a participant in the political party system. If the party was weak, it tried to classify it as a practitioner of traditional customs so that, although the party would lose all votes in that municipality, the opposition could not win them either. Thus, parties saw electoral reform as a means to advance their own interests. 61
The positions of political parties and other actors involved in the reform were as follows: the PRI was divided internally. Some of its members, following the Governor’s position, were interested in showing respect for the self-determination of indigenous communities as a way to increase their party’s legitimacy. Others, although recognizing traditional practices, wanted to maintain the possibility of superimposing their party’s candidacy on the person elected by the assembly in order to prevent the advancement of the opposition.62 The Party of the Democratic Revolution (PRD) insisted that anyone elected by the assembly be considered an elected official without any further intervention by political parties. By defending traditional practices, the PRD aimed to break up the PRI’s hegemony in indigenous regions.63 The National Action Party (PAN), in turn, was the only party that openly rejected the legal recognition of traditional practices because it saw them as conducive
61 Ibid. 210, 211.
62 Ibid. 210, 216, 217.
63 Ibid. 211, 219, 220.
111
to the consolidation of local cacicazgos, which would become exempt from partisan competition.64 The PAN’s strongest presence was in relatively large, non-indigenous, urban centers. Consequently, this party had less at stake in the recognition of traditional practices that occur mostly in small, indigenous, rural communities. Smaller parties displayed an ambivalent position; they saw the need to regulate traditional practices but resented the loss of opportunities which that would bring to their parties.65
The main debates took place between the representatives of the PRI and the PRD, the two parties with a strongest presence in rural areas; therefore, they had more at stake in the recognition of traditional practices. The PRD brought influential organizations into the debate, such as COCEI and individuals, notably Aristarco Aquino, a former indigenous leader of the teacher’s union. Although formally not members of the party, these organizations and leaders strongly supported the electoral self-determination of indigenous communities. Aquino, in particular, believed that communitarian democracy is not in opposition to liberal democracy.
On the contrary, he asserted that recognizing traditional practices at the municipal level would, at the same time, strengthen partisan competition by helping break the hegemony of the PRI.66
In addition to political parties, indigenous organizations played a crucial role in defining the content of reform to the electoral code. Although these organizations were not formally invited to the debates in Santo Domingo, many of their proposals, which had been
64 Ibid. 211, 224, 225.
65 Ibid. 225.
66 Ibid. p 221.
112
formulated in numerous fora held since the mid 1980s but more consistently during the three years prior to the debates, were brought forward by the governor, the state congress, and political parties (especially the PRI and the PRD). This did not mean that indigenous organizations necessarily supported any of the political parties. Rather, the parties used indigenous proposals to advance their own agendas.67 Through party representatives, members of congress, and the governor, indigenous organizations’ proposals had a significant influence on the debates, and, as Donna Lee Van Cott68 suggests based on her observations in
Bolivia and Colombia, brought to the table a multicultural dimension that would not have been attained otherwise.
Other actors with a significant influence in the electoral reform were some of the progressive members of the Catholic Church who strongly favored the legislation on the recognition of traditional practices. Members of congress, knowing the strong influence of these Church members on indigenous communities, requested their views on the reform.
Since 1976 and up to his retirement in 1993, Archbishop Emeritus Don Bartolomé Carrasco had been a champion of indigenous causes and their leaders, and had encouraged the formation of numerous indigenous organizations.69 Although not a strong supporter of indigenous theology, his successor, Don Héctor González, also took in this case a position in favor of the electoral reform. Don Arturo Lona, Bishop of Tehuantepec between 1971 and
2000 was an unfaltering supporter of the poor and the indigenous peoples of Oaxaca and
67 Ibid. p. 208.
68 Van Cott (2000) 226.
69 See Chapter Four for a description of Don Bartolomé’s ministry as head of Oaxaca’a Archdiocese.
113
followed the liberation theology method; he too expressed his views in favor of the legislation of traditional practices.70 The Diocesan Center for Indigenous Ministry of Oaxaca
(CEDIPIO), which was one of the organizations promoted by Archbishop Carrasco, organized
, a number of fora on the subject of indigenous rights starting in 1992. CEDIPIO was one of the key civil society organizations that influenced the nature of the multicultural debate.71
Thus, the Church’s influence was felt at three levels: in the formation and socialization of indigenous leaders, in the solidarity with the indigenous movement, and in the political position of the hierarchy towards the electoral reform.72
Other civil society organizations, independent scholars, political activists, and artists also contributed favorably to the electoral reform. On February 1995, this sector of society formed the Citizen’s Assembly of Oaxaca (ACO), which carried out a series of workshops on the reform. Their pronouncement was in favor of opening up new political spaces for civil society and indigenous organizations, and against the hegemony of a single party.73
Members of indigenous communities, the subjects of the legislation, displayed mixed reactions to the reform. Not all of them were well informed or understood the way in which the new legislation would affect their traditional practices. Some members of indigenous communities saw no reason why the PRI, which had for a long time been part of their political system, should stop participating in the electoral process. Others had maintained a close
70 See Chapter Four for a description of Don Arturo’s ministry as head of Tehuantepec’s Diocese, which is suffragan to the Archdiocese of Oaxaca.
71 See Chapter Four for a description of CEDIPIO’s mission and programs.
72 Recondo (2007) 233, 234.
73 Ibid. 230.
114
contact with indigenous organizations, had followed the debate, and strongly supported the elimination of parties from the electoral process. Similarly to political parties, community leaders took a position in favor of or against the reform depending on whether such a position would help them advance their interests.74
In sum, the electoral reform was not due to the influence of one single political actor
(government, PRI, opposition parties, or indigenous organizations) but reflected a compromise among multiple actors who sought to use the reform to further their own agendas.
3.3.3 Challenges of Implementation of Multicultural Reforms.75
On August 30, 1995 with objection mainly by the PRD, congress approved the first phase of the electoral reform.. Although the issue of the complete non-intervention of political parties in communitarian elections was not fully resolved, the legislation gave indigenous peoples the right to elect their authorities and follow other practices in 412 of the 570 municipalities. A great ambiguity existed in the 1995 legislation, however, whereby even if classified as users of traditional practices, municipalities had the option of registering their candidates either as independent or as candidates of one of the parties after the assembly had nominated them. This ambiguous legislation was the result of negotiations among parties. The
PRI, which still predominated, wanted to retain its practice of superimposing its candidacy on the person elected by the assembly.76 Thus, the reform resulted in a hybrid municipal electoral
74 Ibid. 234–236.
75 This section follows closely Ibid. Chapter 6.
76 Ibid. 237.
115
system, consisting partly of indigenous and partly of partisan practices, which faced various challenges during its implementation.
Despite the lack of precision in the law, 1995 municipal elections showed relatively few post-electoral conflicts.77 This can be explained in part because the PRI intervened before the election to compensate likely losers or convince some candidates to withdraw in order to resolve potential disputes.Many of these arguments were related to the procedures used to determine which members of the community had the right to vote or run for office. 78
Due to strong criticism of the reform by indigenous organizations, Church actors, and civil society organizations, together with an electoral reform at the national level in 1996,
1995 legislation was revised. On September 1997, new amendments to the electoral code introduced an important new rule: all those municipalities that had been classified as users of traditional practices no longer had the option of registering their candidates with any political party. The two electoral methods at last became differentiated formally. Disputes continued, however, over the classification of municipalities in one of the two electoral systems. These disputes resulted in the addition of six municipalities to the list of those following traditional practices.
The new electoral law that regulates traditional practices does not include provisions either for the resolution of conflicts or for the codification of electoral procedures, which show significant variations from one municipality to the next. The law merely recognizes the validity of the traditional practices system and leaves it to the communities to regulate the
77 Ibid. 253.
78 Ibid. 323.
116
specific details of the electoral method in their jurisdiction. The oral and changing nature of traditional practices, however, allows each community, and each faction within a community, to take a different interpretation of “the tradition” according to its interests. Frequent differences arise with respect to the right of women and community members residing abroad to vote or run for office, the date of the election, the method for voting (through secret ballot, by raising hands, by registering votes on a blackboard, etc.), and the manner of selecting candidates. The right of women to vote is often not an issue of gender discrimination but of adding or blocking votes for a candidate. At times, incumbents, who are in charge of organizing new elections, are accused of not publicly announcing the election in order to give an advantage to their preferred candidates. In sum, the interpretation of traditional practices is often highly strategic and is made with the intention of reducing potential votes for political opponents.79 The IEE acts as a mediator, but not as an authority, through long negotiations in which each faction tries to impose rules that are more favorable to it.80 Chapter Four will discuss some cases in which the local priests successfully mediated electoral conflicts.
Another issue that arose only after two democratizing trends—electoral reform and the national decentralization process—were implemented, is the participation of sub-municipal communities81 in local government. These communities frequently had been excluded from
79 Ibid.
80 The IEE is not set up to codify electoral procedures of traditional practices for two main reasons: first, the large diversity of these practices across communities impedes any uniform rules; and second, respect for the non- partisan electoral system excludes intervention by the party-based electoral institute. The IEE must, however, maintain a close relationship with indigenous communities in order to formally recognize municipal authorities as part of the statewide municipal system.
81 A municipality is made up of several communities: one municipal center (cabecera municipal), where municipal authorities reside, and several smaller and secondary communities (agencias), which often have their own de facto, if not de jure, sub-municipal authorities. Starting in approximately 2001 some of these secondary
117
participating in municipal government and were now claiming a stronger political participation as well as their fair share of resources generated by the decentralization process.
By 1998, decentralization programs were assigning as much as 20% of the aggregate states’ budget to municipalities nationwide. These new resources raised the interest of sub-municipal communities in contesting electoral methods and results in order to promote their representatives in municipal government.
Due to all these types of concerns, the number of electoral conflicts in municipalities governed by traditional practices has been on the rise since the 1995 reforms. These conflicts have often resulted in the cancellation or the annulment of elections, or in the rejection of electoral results by the defeated factions. The increase of electoral conflicts are indeed an indication of the inconsistency of the nature of traditional practices and of the intense power struggles within indigenous communities, but they are also indicative of increased opportunities for contestation and therefore of democratic advancement.
The end of the PRI’s strongest corporatist era brought to the surface issues that already existed but, that up to the 1990s, had not found adequate channels of expression. The flexible nature of traditional practices did not pose a problem so long as the local cacique exercised full control over local elections and, before the 1997 electoral reform, counted on PRI resources to negotiate and resolve conflicts. Once the reform banned political parties, especially the PRI, from participating in the resolution of conflicts related to traditional practices, however, political differences within communities had to be brought to the more
communities began demanding their right to participate in the election of municipal authorities and in the allocation of municipal resources. (Apuntes Municipalistas, Cuaderno No. 4, 2007).
118
open forum of the IEE. This change of mediator has made it more difficult to resolve conflicts because the IEE lacks the means, legal and financial, and the authority to reconcile divergent interests. For example, the IEE cannot negotiate the withdrawal of some candidates or the formation of alliances among them as the PRI used to do through “confidential” agreements.
Despite being less effective than the PRI’s old conciliatory mechanisms, the IEE is much more transparent and in that sense a more democratic institutional mechanism. From the point of view of the opposition, however, the IEE lacks legitimacy as a mediator because of the strong influence that it still receives from PRI governors.
3.3.4 Contribution of Multicultural Reforms to Democratization.
The previous section discussed the strong influence of indigenous organizations, including the Zapatista uprising, in getting multicultural reforms enacted in Oaxaca. To what extent and in what ways have MCR contributed to democratization in the state?
Multicultural legislation in Oaxaca has had a two-sided effect: in some municipalities; it has allowed dominant groups, often made up of local caciques or council of elders, to consolidate their hegemony and exclude political adversaries. The increased number of electoral conflicts that emerged after MCR were enacted provides evidence of these power struggles. In other municipalities, multicultural legislation has allowed for the establishment of a more open community and for the undermining of corporatist practices.82 At the municipal level, civil society actors (indigenous organizations, NGOs associated with the
Catholic Church, independent regional organizations, and others) have induced change by
82 Recondo (2007).
119
relying on the new legislation on traditional practices to support communities against state clientelism and to strengthen community institutions that depart in significant ways from the old “institutional revolutionary community.” This is the case of Ixtayutla, discussed in
Chapter Four, where the most marginalized sectors of the community demanded respect for the plenary assembly’s decisions, counter to the inclination of the local cacique and his followers. Against a tradition of authoritarianism, these marginalized sectors displayed a new attitude that was also more legitimate to the eyes of the majority. Based on the new legislation, new political actors have undertaken new democratic practices that never existed before. In Ixtayutla, as in most other municipalities, assemblies were reserved for a selected group of caciques and elders. By defending the new and more democratic concept of communitarian assemblies, the previously marginalized actors gained access to collective decisions from which they had been excluded traditionally.
Multicultural reforms in themselves are not a guarantee of broader political inclusion.
Multiculturalism may be exclusionary if understood as a split-sovereignty that grants indigenous people the right to govern themselves within their own territories but excludes them from participating in local congress and in broader political and juridical structures of the state. In this case, indigenous sovereignty would undercut notions of political inclusion and multiculturalism.83 On the other hand, multiculturalism may be inclusive if it encourages political participation of indigenous groups through the creation of designated congressional seats and through the decentralization of state and national government.
83 Van Cott (2000).
120
Inclusive multiculturalism has not been fully legislated in Oaxaca. The constitutional amendments of 1995 to 1998 were restricted to the ambit of indigenous communities and did not include broad measures of inclusiveness in state and federal institutions, such as assigning independent indigenous congressional seats. Neither is there agreement among indigenous movements on whether this congressional seat assignment is desirable. Those who favor the measure seek to avoid what they see as a contradiction between electing municipal authorities through traditional practices and state authorities through the party system. This contradiction lies in the fact that traditional practices are meant to undermine an unrepresentative and clientelistic party system, whereas party-based state elections reinforce it. A manifestation of this conflict is the traditionally low turnout of indigenous people in state elections and their lack of credibility in state officials.84 Other analysts point to the flexible nature of cultural identities and see no contradiction in indigenous attitudes that follow traditional practices in municipal elections and partisan behavior in state elections.
3.3.5 Multicultural Reforms amidst Economic Neo-liberalism.
As constitutional reforms in favor of indigenous peoples were being enacted in Latin
America throughout the 1990s, economic policy was being defined according to neo-liberal principles. How do we explain the successful adoption of multicultural reforms, with their non-liberal notions of citizenship and representation, within a framework of neo-liberal economic processes in the region? Are these complementary reforms, both of which contribute to fostering democratization? Or are they contradictory trends that act to undermine each other’s democratic advances?
84 Maldonado-Alvarado (2002) 55.
121
These two types of reforms—economic and multicultural—have had different effects on disadvantaged groups. Multiculturalism, although a partial reform, has been favorable to indigenous people inasmuch as it recognizes their basic right to be different and raises their expectations to carry out further reforms. Neo-liberal political-economic policies, on the other hand, have contributed to the impoverishment of indigenous and other vulnerable groups by significantly reducing public expenditures in education, health, and other subsidies, as governments bowed to pressure from international lenders. In addition, besides being a set of economic policies and state reform measures, neo-liberalism has also important cultural and social implications. As Van Cott suggests: “. . .neo-liberal economic policies have distorted the traditional economic and social structures on which indigenous cultures depend for their autonomous development.”85 Thus, on one hand the cultural diversity of the nation is recognized, on the other specific economic and social policies act against culturally differentiated modes of production.
There are two explanations for this apparent contradiction. The first is that there is no contradiction at all; the neo-liberal cultural project entails pro-active recognition of a minimal package of cultural rights in order to deflect demands for more radical challenges and to advance its own political agenda. This perspective, referred to as “neo-liberal multiculturalism,” “. . .places limits on the cultural recognition agenda by distinguishing those rights that are acceptable from those that are not, and suggests that an equilibrium is established between neo-liberal power holders and the demands of cultural rights activists.”86
85 Van Cott (2006) 7.
86 Hale (2002) 485.
122
Interpreting multicultural reforms in Oaxaca according to the first hypothesis, the legalization of traditional practices represents a PRI maneuver intended to keep opposition parties away from municipal governments. By approving traditional practices in 418 of the
570 municipalities by 1997, the PRI lost its electoral control over these indigenous communities, but the opposition could not win control over them either. Supporters of this hypothesis would consider this a small and advantageous concession by the PRI that maintained its usual clientelistic relationship with these same communities when it came to state and federal elections.87 Furthermore, this controlled concession should not impede the carrying out of neo-liberal economic policies. On the contrary, this concession would be expected to divert further demands and allow economic policy to be more easily carried out.
The second perspective rejects the idea that multicultural policies have deflected demands for more radical challenges to fundamental power relations and points to the continued emergence of indigenous social movements throughout Latin America undeterred by the limited nature of the reforms thus far achieved.88 In fact, supporters of this position observe that most Latin American states entered the era of multicultural constitutionalism after the introduction of neo-liberal reforms. The timing of adoption of MCRs—mainly after
1994—actually coincides with a relative increase in welfare-state spending to offset the social impact of economic adjustment.89
87 Recondo (2007).
88 Van Cott (2006).
89 Hershberg (2003) 20–23.
123
In Oaxaca as in other parts of Latin America, however, even when significant constitutional reforms that give rights to indigenous people have been made, it is not clear whether these reforms are mere symbols of recognition of cultural diversity or an actual departure from the exclusionary practices of the past. The various actors—government, political parties, indigenous organizations, and others—that participated in multicultural reforms have different expectations on them. For some, PRI government and some members of opposition political parties, the formalization of the reforms are a guarantee of political stability and of the diffusion of further more radical reforms. For others, indigenous organizations, intellectuals, and some members of opposition political parties, they are an intermediate step towards further changes. From one perspective, these reforms are only a way of disguising the old hegemony of the PRI; from another, they represent a rupture with the old political order and the emergence of new forms of political representation and intermediation. Multicultural reforms are, at the same time, an attempt by government to control political change and an attempt by opposition and civil society organizations to accelerate it. 90
Given this interaction of divergent forces, multicultural reforms can only have incongruous effects. Will they overcome the crisis of political representation? Or, on the contrary, will they contribute to intensifying it? Are they an instrument of democratic change or the consolidation of a recycled form of authoritarianism? Will they contribute to building autonomous indigenous communities that become integrated into the broader nation? Or will they accentuate segregation and sectarianism of these communities? More than ten years after
90 Recondo (2007).
124
their initial implementation, MCR show mixed answers to these questions. The authoritarian cycle, which re-emerged in Oaxaca starting in 1998, sets a distinct scenario on which to evaluate the development of MCR. This process of de-democratization, which will be discussed in Chapter 5, has slowed down, but not impeded, the development of MCR.
Beyond these alternative expectations, multicultural reforms reflect the profound crisis of the old form of political domination established after the Revolution and the recognition of the feasibility of non-partisan forms of political participation. The emergence of new social actors and the creation of political alternatives question the old clientelistic pact that tied government to indigenous communities. New institutional channels, traditional practices, political parties, civil society organizations, are now in place to express a diversity of social concerns and identities and, in this sense, contribute to democratization in Oaxaca.91
3.4 Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs).
The third type of civil society organization present in Oaxaca, which most closely fulfills the “cooperative” role suggested by the theoretical conception of
Montesquieu/DeTocqueville/ Putnam, is the so-called non-governmental organization. 92 In principle, this type of organization is critical of and balances the state, but rather than directly confronting it fills up some of the spaces left by the state in its neo-liberal retrenchment.
Usually these organizations have constituted themselves formally under the law and are
91 Ibid.
92 Some authors (Esteva 2001) consider that the name NGO, which originated in the 1970s in the United Nations, is misplaced since many of them are financed by and sometimes carry out government programs. Nevertheless, the term will be used here in the understanding that a good number of these organizations in Oaxaca, although partly financed by the state, have maintained a moderately critical position and a relative autonomy from the same.
125
regulated by it. Often these organizations are financed by the state and, at times, deviate from their original critical position to become instruments of government programs. In Oaxaca, a good number of NGOs have resisted co-optation by the state and, although partly financed by it, have turned the access to public funds into a right of civil society rather than a means for subordination. These organizations have endeavored to carry out a transparent and impartial grant-receiving process in order to maintain the autonomy of their orientation and programs.93
NGOs in Oaxaca have assumed a broad range of responsibilities seeking to make an impact on the transformation of society. Their objectives include the promotion of free and fair elections; the prevention of human rights violations the improvement in the conditions of disadvantaged groups in society; the provision of legal and educational services; the promotion of the cultural, economic, social, religious, or political interests of their members; and the protection of the environment. On occasion, the pursuit of these goals may lead them to take part in demonstrations against the state in support of vulnerable groups although their mission is not to confront the state. NGOs also have largely supported the enactment of multicultural reforms.
Close to 200 of these organizations, providing services throughout the state, have been identified in Oaxaca. 94 Some of the oldest ones were founded in the mid 1970s, but the great majority of them formed from the late 1980s to the late 1990s. Forty six percent of the identified organizations have less than 10 people working for them, 29% have between 11 and
20 members, and only 3% have more than 100 members. Fifty six percent of all these
93 Esteva (2001).
126
members are women. The fact that 78% of these organizations’ collaborators work on a voluntary basis without receiving any compensation is evidence of the sense of service and solidarity that characterizes this type of civil society organizations. Members of these organizations, as opposed to the two other types of Oaxacan civil society organizations discussed above, are usually not indigenous although they largely support indigenous causes and service indigenous populations. The specific areas in which these 200 organizations participate include: the promotion of self-sustaining economic and community development projects and cooperatives (25%); supplementary education to children in their autochthonous culture and to adults in their civil and political rights (18%); welfare assistance to the handicapped, orphans, and homeless (15%); the promotion, defense, and advising on human and women’s rights (13%); research, education, and conservation of natural resources (11%); promotion of culture and traditions of ethno-linguistic groups (9%); advising on sexual, reproductive, and other aspects of public health (8%); and communication of a variety of social issues relevant to the community (1%). Through these actions, NGOs also have helped transform the relationship between the state and the underprivileged sectors of society.
The Catholic Church has promoted or influenced the formation of several of these organizations. The Church’s “indigenous ministry,” which will be discussed in Chapter Four, endeavored to carry out evangelization based on the understanding of indigenous culture and on the commitment to improving the every-day life of the indigenous poor. This commitment, when carried out by lay people, often took the form of a “Base Ecclesial Community” (BEC)
94 Directorio de Organismos Civiles del Estado de Oaxaca (2000), Oaxaca: Foro de Organismos Civiles de Oaxaca
127
and eventually of a civil society organization. From the outset, the Church insisted on the involvement of lay people in the management and operation of these organizations. With the change of emphasis by the Church’s hierarchy starting in the early 1990s, most of these organizations became independent from the Church. Their lay members, however, maintained the Church’s approach and methods in favor of disadvantaged groups. Chapter Four describes the process of formation and evolution of some of these organizations as well as the Church’s influence on them.
3.5 Conclusion
The highly indigenous character of Oaxaca’s population shapes the nature and goals of this state’s civil society, which is concerned largely with resolving the grievances to the indigenous people that the state has not addressed successfully. Although with limitations,
Oaxacan civil society organizations have succeeded in transforming the state-society relationship over the last thirty-five years, particularly with respect to the indigenous sector of society, from one of co-optation to contestation thus contributing to democratization. The three types of organization discussed in this chapter resemble the three philosophical conceptions of civil society described in Chapter Two.
Indigenous communitarian life, concerned with the freedom to act at a local level, comes closest to the “radical” conception of civil society. Despite frequent conflictive relationships within them, indigenous communities have the opportunity to contribute to an alternative non-liberal conception of democracy, to increase their members’ capacity to solve problems locally, to define their identities, and to adapt to contingencies. One of the key
128
lessons to draw from indigenous communitarian life is the feasibility of non-partisan ways of political participation.
NGOs, concerned with the promotion of civil and political liberties, education of citizens for political participation, service to underprivileged groups, conservation of the environment, and protection of human and civil rights, follow the “cooperative” model of civil society. These organizations contribute to democracy by monitoring the fairness and legality of government procedures and by pressing for its accountability.
The more contentious indigenous movement organizations, which, starting in the
1970s became organized and mobilized against the state, follow the “confrontational” notion of civil society. These organizations contribute to democratization by resisting political hegemony, demanding a more equitable distribution of public resources from government, and requiring a more evenhanded administration of justice and a broader political participation and contestation. Indigenous movement organizations partly undermined cacicazgos and achieved, together with other political actors, a higher level of inclusion of indigenous actors through the enactment of multicultural reforms from 1995 to 1998. At times, however, civil society leaders also have defeated democratic ideals by failing to accept compromises.
The Church has supported civil society’s efforts towards a more just society to the extent that its resources and hierarchical directives have allowed. This support has been manifested, as will be further discussed in Chapter Four, through the Church’s solidarity with and development of agency of indigenous actors; the support and creation of civil society organizations in defense of indigenous, human, and civil rights; and the political pronouncements in favor of multicultural reforms.
129
MCR were enacted in Oaxaca because of the confluence of a series of favorable circumstances, including the government’s need to regain legitimacy; the agency of opposition political parties, PRI reformists, indigenous organizations, and Church and other civil society actors; and the favorable response by institutions to civil society’s demands.
From the perspective of civil society, however, additional reforms still are needed. Non- partisan forms of political participation need to be accepted at the state and national levels, and ethno-national identities need to be acknowledged as distinct from, but formative of a multinational state. 95 The key question that remains is how to incorporate additional demands for multiculturalism into policy making. Whether the existing reforms remain mere symbolic measures of the recognition of indigenous rights, or become a stepping-stone towards deeper and broader reforms will depend, to a great extent, on the reaction by the state. The capacity of Mexican liberal institutions to absorb non-liberal forms of citizenship and representation and to allow for the continued freedom of expression and association of civil society will be analyzed in Chapter Five.
95 Yashar (2005) 5.
130
CHAPTER 4 THE CHURCH IN OAXACA.
The progressive Catholic Church has contributed to democratization in Oaxaca in two main ways: first by promoting the formation of civil society organizations that have endeavored to give their underprivileged, and largely indigenous, members and beneficiaries the opportunity to become actors in society and to seek broader political participation and contestation; and second by leading or accompanying democratization projects that have sought to defend traditional practices and to undermine a single party political dominance in indigenous communities.
This chapter provides evidence of a sample of these Church -inspired civil society organizations and projects. The evidence presented here, although limited, includes cases in which the Church has been a key factor in supporting the three types of civil society organizations discussed in previous chapters: indigenous communitarian life (radical civil society), indigenous movement organizations (confrontational civil society), and NGOs
(cooperative civil society). Also included in the sample are five democratization projects in which Church actors have played a critical role in defeating cacicazgos. These case studies are: the accompaniment of the Church to a critical movement of workers, peasants, and students that took place in the Isthmus, centered in the city of Juchitán, mainly between 1968 and the mid 1980s; the creation of a model coffee cooperative, also in the Isthmus; an environmental protection project in Putla in the Southern Sierra; a project for the preservation of the woods in Itundujia in the Mixteca region; and a struggle for the recognition of
131
traditional practices in Ixtayutla in the coastal district of Jamiltepec.1 Although some of these projects were initiated to address economic or environmental issues, from the start they also had deep political implications since they contended with the underlying structures of power in the communities.
After a brief history of the Church in Oaxaca and of the evolution of its attitude towards indigeneity, this chapter describes the ministry orientation of the Church according to liberation theology’s method starting in the late 1960s. This orientation gave rise to a strong commitment by the Church towards indigenous causes and to the formation of Church - sponsored organizations that correspond to this commitment. After a change of attitude by the
Church’s hierarchy, which reversed the liberationist trend, from the early 1990s lay members who participated in this ministry formed, independent NGOs that sprang from the Church’s previous initiatives. Although these NGOs are strictly civil organizations, their leaders have maintained liberation theology’s method and modes of action. Hence, the particular NGOs, and some independent political leaders, that emerged from this process are understood here as a continuation of the liberationist orientation of the Church under a new expression. Next, the chapter discusses the development and political impact of BECs, an instrument of implementation of liberation theology derived from the 1968 Bishop’s Conference at
Medellin. And last, the chapter describes the five democratization projects that required the leadership or accompaniment of Church actors in the struggle of indigenous communities against cacicazgos.
1 See Figures 1.1 and 1.2, pp. xii and xiii, describing Oaxaca’s regions and districts.
132
4.1 The Church’s Attitude towards Indigeneity.
In parallel to the action of the state, the Catholic Church has developed its own mission towards the indigenous peoples of Oaxaca, generally known as the indigenous ministry. The primary attention that the Church has paid to these and other underprivileged groups has been evident since the early times of the Spanish conquest. As early as 1535, the
Diocese of Antequera (name given to Oaxaca at that time) was created and put under the responsibility of several religious orders, mainly the Dominicans. By 1891, as a result of the growth of the Church’s ministry, a suffragan diocese in Tehuantepec was created, and Oaxaca became an Archdiocese with responsibility over the dioceses of San Cristóbal de las Casas
(Chiapas), Tabasco, Yucatan, and Campeche. During this period under the bishopric of Don
Eulogio Gillow, the Church embarked on major material development projects: restoring and building churches, convents, seminaries, and parishes, as well as on social and pastoral work in schools, community centers, hospitals, factories, media, etc. In the early 20th century, however, the Mexican Revolution of 1910–1920 and the persecution of the Church from 1926 to 1936 undermined much of the Church’s work done up to that time. Nevertheless, throughout these conflictive times, the indigenous people maintained their religiosity through their traditional ways of worship. In the 1940s, following the religious conflict, Bishop
Fortino Gómez León (1943–1967) organized the restoration of churches and the reinstatement of the seminary, and reached out for priests and pastoral agents, male and female, to service the diocese’s parishes.2
2 Méndez-Morales (1997).
133
Similar to the state’s indigenista current, up to the 1950s the ministry of the Church towards the indigenous people was of a rather paternalistic nature, attempting to correct what were considered false practices embedded in autochthonous traditions, rites, and celebrations, and emphasizing top-down catechesis and the administration of the sacraments.3
This situation began to change in the 1960s with the celebration of the Vatican II
Council (1962–1965), which represented the disposition of the Church to adapt its practices to the diverse conditions and cultures where it carried out its ministry. The new aim of indigenous ministry became the “comprehensive” development of the indigenous people and communities through the understanding of their cultures and the active involvement of the people themselves. Phillip Berryman comments: “Paul VI’s encyclical Populorum Progressio
(1966) was extremely important in this regard. It used the ideas of a French priest named
Lebret. Comprehensive development meant more than material development—being more, not simply having more, as the encyclical put it. For example, forming coffee cooperatives among Oaxacan indigenous farmers, which the Church fomented, was not just about earning more income; it was about being more in control of one’s circumstances; being more of an agent of one’s destiny. The well-known “Letter of the Bishops of the Third World” (1967)4 took the encyclical as its starting point. Dom Helder Camara seems to have been behind it. It gently broached the idea of socialism. That idea obviously was attractive to Church people, and it helped to integrate the aspects of development.”5 Another encyclical that contained
3 Siller, Clodomiro in Méndez-Morales (1997) 4.
4 ‘Letter of the Bishops of the Third World’ in Hennelly, ed. (1990) 48-58.
5 Phillip Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
134
fundamental changes derived from Vatican II for the indigenous people was “Ad Gentes” (On
Missions), centered on culture, values, and the autochthonous Church.
The Church in Oaxaca had been preparing for this new type of pastoral work since the early 1960s when the papal nuncio to Mexico, Mons. Luigi Raimondi, invited several religious congregations of women to open mission-houses in the indigenous zones suggested by the bishops. To support and coordinate this effort, the National Center for Aid to
Indigenous Missions (CENAMI) was created in 1963. Two years later, the Conference of
Mexican Bishops (CEM) created the Episcopal Commission for Indigenous People (CEI).
These two institutions, prompted by the Vatican II Council, initiated a new era of indigenous ministry in Mexico.6 CENAMI obtained support from international Catholic institutions such as ADVENIAT (Germany), MISEREOR (Germany), and Catholic Relief Services (U.S.) to finance integral development projects in areas such as health and agriculture, and to build mission-houses in indigenous areas.
In 1967, Don Ernesto Corripio Ahumada who had recently been named archbishop of
Oaxaca intensified the promotion of an indigenous ministry and, together with a group of pastoral agents, identified the obstacles and challenges that lay ahead. Among them were the lack of preparation of priests, nuns, and other pastoral agents to understand and value indigenous culture and religiosity; the conditions of extreme poverty and alienation of the indigenous people; the widely dispersed population; the incompatibility of market mechanisms with indigenous culture; the political hegemony of local bosses (caciques); and the need for young people to migrate given the lack of opportunities in their home towns.
6 Siller in Méndez-Morales (1997) 4.
135
In 1969, with support from CENAMI and CEI, the Regional Seminary of the
Southeast (SERESURE) was established and charged with recruiting and educating of parish priests to serve in the dioceses of Oaxaca, Tehuantepec, San Cristóbal de las Casas, and
Tehuacán. SERESURE understood the importance of appreciating the culture of indigenous people as a starting point for evangelization and thus came to hold an essential responsibility for the mission of the Church in these areas. SERESURE seminarians were afforded the opportunity to receive not only the standard academic training for the priesthood but also actually worked among indigenous people in rural communities.
In 1971, the appointment of Arturo Lona Reyes as bishop of Tehuantepec, a suffragan diocese of the archdiocese of Oaxaca, further strengthened the cause of indigenous ministries.
He was a dedicated liberationist and set about promoting a more radical appraisal of the societal status of indigenous people in the Oaxacan region which he was able to incorporate into the pastoral values of his diocese. Lona’s support of the Coalition of Workers, Peasants, and Students of the Isthmus (COCEI) that challenged the hegemony of the PRI, is discussed latter in this chapter. Bishop Lona conceived SERESURE as a crucial element for the accomplishment of the Church’s new mission in southern Mexico.7
Even though CELAM turned conservative after 1972, there were other entities in which like-minded pastoral agents could come together.8 SERESURE was one of them.
Another was the Diocesan Center for Indigenous Ministry (CEDIPIO); formed in Oaxaca at the end of 1972, it was established to reinforce the mission of CENAMI in the state with the
7 Norget (2004).
8 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008
136
largest and most diverse indigenous population in Mexico.9 Between 1975 and 1978, indigenous ministry changed from a purely religious and ecclesial approach to one in which socio-economic conditions were analyzed critically from the gospel’s perspective. In 1976,
CEI justified the hiring of external legal, economic, and political advisors as part of the endeavor to overcome socio-economic inequalities. In that same year, CEI issued the
“Theological Foundations for an Indigenous Ministry”10 (FUTEPIN), a document designed to orient and justify the Christian commitment to the indigenous people. After years of discussion starting in the 1960s, this document was significant at this point because it represented the understanding among CEI members of indigenous theology.
When Don Bartolomé Carrasco became head of the diocese of Oaxaca in 1976, the position of CEDIPIO was strengthened further by the support of this firm advocate of the indigenous ministry. Carrasco was a key supporter of the indigenous ministry and also strove to create more opportunities for the poor inhabitants of the Oaxacan diocese. Carrasco joined with two neighboring bishops—Lona of Tehuantepec and Don Samuel Ruíz of San Cristóbal de las Casas—to form the “South Pacific Pastoral Region” (RPS), which articulated a consistent policy encouraging indigenous ministry. Of the eighteen official pastoral regions in the country, RPS became one of the most radical.11
9 Méndez-Morales (1997) 8.
10 Mexican Bishops Conference (1988).
11 Norget (2004).
137
4.1.1 Indigenous Theology
In the context of Oaxaca, the poor, who are the objective of liberation theology, are to a large extent the indigenous people. According to some theologians, this fact required a more specific and acculturated theology, that is, indigenous theology, to address the needs of these differentiated subjects. Some of the key proponents of indigenous theology12 have argued that liberation theology does not go far enough in contextualizing evangelization to indigenous culture, and that there can be no true liberation without enculturation. Thus, indigenous theology seeks to resuscitate indigenous peoples’ pride in their own identity and values, helping them in this way to achieve the plenitude of their lives.13 According to indigenous theologians, indigenous people, despite facing adversity every day, struggle through life with endless hope. They know themselves to be “the poorest among the poor” and yet draw on their whole human experience, particularly on their religiosity, to respond to basic existential questions and to find reasons for joy.14 Indigenous theology sets conditions for evangelization: first, the recognition of the great human and cultural value of indigenous peoples; second, the acceptance of criticism by the indigenous peoples, who often conceive evangelization as a colonial imposition, and the resolution of this criticism through a dialogue among equals; and third the recognition of the timeless presence of God among indigenous cultures.15
12 Arias (1998) and Clodomiro Siller, personal interview, December 4, 2005.
13 Latin American Bishops Conference. (1992)., Chapter 4, 9.1
14 Latin American Bishops Conference. (1979). 34, 448, 449
15 Bottasso, ed. (1990).
138
Some controversy has arisen between indigenous and liberation theologians.
Proponents of the first16 suggest that it is indispensable to understand the cultural and idiosyncratic aspects of indigenous people and, consistent with liberation theology’s underlying method of starting the theological process by listening to the poor, understand and value indigenous peoples’ own perception of the world and the nature of their relationship with God before attempting any evangelization. Some proponents of liberation theology argue, on the contrary, that the category of subjects to which liberation theology should be directed is the poor, whether indigenous or not, and that subdividing this category would atomize the effects of this method of evangelization.17
The tension between liberation theology and indigenous theology reflects a larger attitude of the left, which tended to see capitalism as the root of evils including racism, sexism, and environmental degradation. The assumption was that it was crucial to unite everyone in coalitions against imperialism and capitalism. Insisting on “secondary oppressions” of race or gender was divisive. [This assumption] seemed relevant during the period when the aim seemed to be a new non-capitalist model of society. In his major writings Gustavo Gutiérrez, for example, seems to reflect these assumptions. Indigenous ministry sees that as a blind spot in the left and in its manifestation in liberation theology.18
This conceptual controversy did not create a conflict in practice in Oaxaca, where there was no imperative need to differentiate the two theologies. Although the teachings at
SERESURE emphasized indigenous theology, they also included liberation theology’s method taught by renowned theologians José Marins, Leonardo Boff, and Gustavo Gutiérrez,
16 Arias (1998); Siller, Clodomiro, personal interview, December 4, 2005; and Marzal et al. (1996).
17 Dialogue between Fathers Manuel Arias and Gustavo Gutiérrez, personal interview with Father Arias, July 19, 2006.
18 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
139
among others. The progressive Church in Oaxaca never adopted fully the title of liberation theology, but rather it was known generally as “the Church of the poor.” Don Bartolomé
Carrasco, a central figure and key promoter of indigenous ministry has said, “Some people think that I follow liberation theology. I should make clear that I have never read one full book on liberation theology. The lectures that I received on liberation theology came from the poor, particularly the indigenous poor and the Ecclesial Base Communities.”19
Similarly, Don Samuel Ruíz, Bishop of San Cristóbal de las Casas, has rejected the notion of liberation theology as an instrument of revolution in the following terms: “To talk about theology is evidently to talk about God and about God in history. All theology is liberating or not theology at all. As a Christian, my first commitment is to feel somebody else’s suffering as my own. . . . Much later others might produce a synthesis of these mechanisms and call it theology.”20
This study does not see liberation theology and indigenous theology as contradictory but rather as complementary to each other. Indeed, indigenous theology can be considered to be one particular form of liberation theology, one in which the particular subjects of evangelization are the indigenous people with their own differentiated culture. The fundamental method of liberation theology, “see, judge, act,” remains valid for the indigenous as well as for any other poor. The key difference is the particular circumstances and culture of each group.
19 Carrasco, Bartolomé, quoted in Arias (1998) 20.
20 Ruíz, Samuel, quoted in Arias (1998) 20.
140
4.2 The Origin of Church-sponsored Civil Organizations.
Liberationist practices and the indigenous ministry agenda in Oaxaca were dependent upon clergy not only with human and technical resources but the support to implement them.
By 1978, the diocese of Oaxaca had 174 priests, 235 nuns, and 2500 catechists.21 To carry out his mission, Don Bartolomé Carrasco organized these resources under three rubrics: indigenous, social, and youth ministries. The first two were carried out through CEDIPIO; the youth ministries were entrusted to the leadership of Father Manuel Arias.
4.2.1 Indigenous and Social Ministry.
During its first years, CEDIPIO supported the formation of pastoral agents who were trained at the seminary in participant observation methodology, given economic, logistical, and organizational support, and encouraged to exchange ideas and experiences among teams of pastoral agents. CEDIPIO also acted as a link with the archbishop and other religious and non-religious organizations.22 At the early stages of CEDIPIO, evangelization placed less emphasis on improving economic conditions and achieving political participation than on reflecting on people’s cultural identity and religiosity23. By the mid 1980s, CEDIPIO identified more concrete actions through which pastoral agents could carry out their ministry.
These included setting up savings and coffee cooperatives and primary health centers; teaching courses on topics such as natural medicine, basic political analysis, organic agriculture, and popular religiosity; and organizing BECs. All of these actions were
21 Méndez-Morales, Sara (1997) 8.
22 Méndez-Morales, Sara (1997), p 23.
23 Méndez-Morales, Sara (1997), p. 26.
141
performed as a religious ministry in the context of indigenous cultures and became known as indigenous and social ministries. Religious pastoral agents led these projects but endeavored to involve indigenous lay people, especially women, in their implementation.
The advice of CENAMI and external consultants was a fundamental element of support in the formation and consolidation all of these projects. There were, however, also a number of obstacles that had to be overcome in order to fully carry them out, including insufficient financial and technical resources and water for cultivation; alcoholism and migration among the serviced population; and apathy, skepticism, and indifference from members of the community. Despite these difficulties, a number of organizations, which in later years were to become independent from CEDIPIO, sprang out of these initiatives. Some of these were:
• ORAB The Organization of Biological Farmers was created to promote the production
of organic products for self-consumption, the use of organic fertilizers, the
conservation of soils, and the cultivation of vegetables. The antecedent of this
organization was the promotion by priests and sisters of organic agriculture in the
district of Sola de Vega24 during the 1980s and early 1990s. With the help of local
agronomists and the financial support of an international Catholic relief service
organization (CARITAS), ORAB was constituted formally in 1996 and its scope
expanded to other districts in the state. Currently ORAB operates with about sixteen
promoters/consultants who service communities on demand. Up to a few years ago,
ORAB also received financial support from the German Catholic Bishops’
24 See map of Oaxaca’s Districts on page______
142
Organization for Development Cooperation (MISEREOR) and the Mexican
government.25
• PROSA The Organization of Health Promoters was constituted in 1994 to promote
the use of natural medicine including homeopathy and allopathy. The mission of
PROSA is to educate and treat patients with respiratory, digestive, nutritional, sexually
transmitted, and other illnesses through the use of natural therapeutic products.
Currently five consultants visit communities throughout the state upon demand and
service a clinic in the city of Oaxaca.26
• MICHIZA This indigenous organic coffee cooperative for the international fair-trade
market was started in 1985 and became an independent organization in 1991. The
name derives from the abbreviations for the five groups who form it: Mixtecos,
Chinantecos, Chatinos, Cuicatecos and Zapotecos. At present, MICHIZA has
approximately 932 partners/producers, 266 of which are women, distributed
throughout the state and produces approximately 500 tons of coffee per year.
MICHIZA´s main customers are in Germany, Austria, and the U.S.27
• KIEE-LUU An indigenous organic hibiscus cooperative for the fair trade export
market was formed in 1988 and became independent from the diocese in 1992.
Currently, KIE-LUU has some 80 members that produce approximately five tons of
25 Mercedes García, personal interview, August 8, 2006.
26 María Soledad Rendón, personal interview, August 20, 2006.
27 MICHIZA’s Board of Directors, personal interview, July 28, 2006. For more details see: http://coopcofees.com/what/producers/michiza-mexico/michiza.
143
hibiscus per year in the district of Sola de Vega.28 The organization’s main export
market is Germany.29
• FLOR Y CANTO: An indigenous and human rights organization that was formed
following the Second General Meeting of the Diocesan Indigenous Ministry in
Tlatixtac, Oaxaca in October, 1994. The organization was constituted formally in 1995
and is dedicated to the promotion, education, denunciation, and legal defense of
human and indigenous rights throughout the state. In 1996, it became part of a broader
network of human rights organizations in Oaxaca.30
4.2.2 Youth Ministry.
Around 1980, Archbishop Carrasco assigned Father Manuel Arias to lead a group of men and women of college age interested in working towards the improvement of socio- economic conditions in Oaxaca and initiated what was known as youth ministry. The initial members of the group received methodological training in Colombia under Father Alejandro
Londoño, a Jesuit; their preparation followed liberation theology’s critical thinking method and consolidated the formation and commitment of the group. The group also participated in seminars in Oaxaca conducted by renowned liberation theologians José Marins, Gustavo
Gutiérrez, and Leonardo Boff. Members of the youth ministry assumed a personal and collective commitment to faith-inspired social work and proclaimed the “transformational force of a united youth movement.”
28 See map of Oaxaca’s Districts on page ______.
29 Austreberta Luján, personal interview, July 18, 2006.
30 For more details see: http://www.geocites.com/florycanto
144
Indigenous, social, and youth ministries had the same sources of inspiration, goals, and methods, except that youth ministry was addressed more specifically to indigenous young men and women whose interests were discussed in ex profeso BECs. Youth ministry did not have enough resources or core members to reach out to the whole diocese of Oaxaca and concentrated its efforts in the Central Valleys, mainly in the districts of Oaxaca City,
Zaachila, Zimatlán, and Etla,31 reaching some 30 parishes out of a total of approximately 120 in the diocese. Representatives of Oaxaca’s youth ministry attended national and international congresses of peer groups, including the 1985 celebration in Oaxaca commemorating the 20th anniversary of the Vatican II Council and the World Day of Youth in Buenos Aires in 1987, which Pope Paul II attended.
4.2.3 Base Ecclesial Communities (BECs)
The directives of the 1968 Medellin Conference included three elements of implementation of the Church’s new strategy. One was the action of the Church in getting people to become more active in their own liberation and to act as “agents of their own destiny.”32 “This was a crucial element of liberation theology. What made this new type of pastoral work liberating, as opposed to the traditional model of the priest who made the rounds saying mass and administering the sacraments, is that it allowed people to learn leadership skills, take action, and become actors at their local community level and beyond.”
33 In Oaxaca, this empowerment gave rise to a number of civil organizations managed by
31 See map of Oaxaca’s Districts on page ______.
32 Gremillion, ed. (1976).
33 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
145
indigenous people, such as coffee cooperatives and other local initiatives in defense of political and economic self-determination. A sample of these initiatives will be described in the following section of this chapter.
The second element of pastoral work, particularly in regions such as the rural and indigenous areas of Oaxaca, was catechists. Prior to Vatican II, a parish or group of parishes trained dozens of catechists who would lead the local community in prayer and be the contact person for development work. “Catechists could be multipliers for priests circuit-riding in dispersed rural areas with many aldeas (villages). They were the point of contact for the priest; they could lead prayers, interpret if he did not know the language, and teach classes.
They were respected by the community. That was the traditional catechist. After Vatican II and Medellín, the catechist role was transformed. Sometimes existing catechists were retrained, and sometimes new ones were educated.”34
The third element of the implementation of liberation theology’s pastoral work was the construction of a strong relationship between theologians and pastoral agents, priests, sisters, and some lay people who were on the front lines of the Church at the village and barrio level. These agents played a central role in the formation of the so-called BECs, which were local community-based groupings that engaged in studying the Bible and carrying out community assistance programs. These groups received strong support from domestic and international NGOs in defense of human, civil, and political rights.35
34 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
35 Berryman (1987).
146
BECs in Oaxaca were initially promoted by Don Ernesto Corripio Ahumada (1967–
1976) on a small scale and mainly in urban settings. Rural indigenous communities did not seem to need a new form of communal organization to carry out social interest projects since they were already organized on that basis.
Base communities worked better in some types of areas than in others. They were not successful among the middle and upper classes. They tended to be easier to start the fewer urban distractions there were, especially TV. They worked best in rural mestizo communities, and sometimes in urban shantytowns in the early stages of development. Base communities were a problematic proposal in a traditional indigenous aldea; which is already a community where everyone knows everyone else and they already have a well defined set of practices. So, in indigenous communities pastoral work tended to use the existing catechist structure and the existing community, and so not create a smaller community against it.36
Corripio’s successor, Don Bartolomé Carrasco (1976–1993), placed more emphasis, as it has been suggested before, on indigenous ministry than on urban BECs. Nevertheless, he highly respected and supported the BECs wherever they became organized. One of the most significant and well-documented experiences with BECs in Oaxaca involved a group of
Maryknoll sisters from the U.S. who were working in the urban parish of San Juan
Chapultepec (San Juanito).37 Although the sisters’ work was difficult at first when they had to
“practically beg” people to attend meetings, after a period of familiarization people became more involved and accepted BECs more readily. The number of BECs in San Juanito, one of the largest parishes of Oaxaca, grew from 2 in 1982 to 26 in 1989, and then decreased to 24 in
1991, and to 18 in 1993.
36 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
37McNabb and Ross (1993).
147
Base communities’ organization and structure are characterized by democratic decision-making and women’s participation. Like other social movements in Latin America, they combine religion with social issues relevant to participants’ lives.38 BECs have a holistic approach, combining religion, culture, production, and ecology in their explanations of the world and in their actions. The base communities of San Juanito, as well as others in Oaxaca, were involved in numerous activities along these lines. Each community had a leader and held weekly meetings. As a group, BECs were organized in various commissions that carried out activities such as the planting of soybeans, nutrition and literacy classes, social and political awareness, religious celebrations and readings, administration of the sacraments, prayer groups, celebration of birthdays and other festivities, youth discussion groups, and visits to the sick. Some of these commissions encouraged political participation and carried out critical analyses of socio-economic conditions. BECs also held conferences, such as the Encuentro de
Comunidades de Base of 1989; representatives of most of the BECs of Oaxaca attended. They discussed subjects such as electoral fraud, government accountability, environmental protection, causes of migration, and neoliberal economic policies. Archbishop Carrasco visited regularly and supported the work of these communities, reinforcing the idea that BECs were not communist, as they were accused of being, and that they were an integral part of the
Church.
In the early 1990s, there was a slow-down in the development of BECs. The priests that encouraged their formation insisted that the reduced number of BECs was not an indication of the failure of the spirit and the method of analysis posed by liberation theology,
38 Hellman (1990) 7–21.
148
which still is prevalent in various other ways in many communities, urban and rural, throughout Oaxaca. These priests attributed the weakening of BECs to factors related to the change of direction by the Church’s hierarchy, who instructed priests and nuns to practice a more traditional type of evangelization.
BECs were always dependent on the priest or sister who had initiated them. These religious leaders, however, lacked enough autonomy to carry out their projects without support by their hierarchy. By comparison, a Pentecostal or Protestant preacher is autonomous running his or her congregation. He or she has to be entrepreneurial. They have more ‘agency’ than Catholic base community leaders. Thus, despite their initial intention in the 1960s and 1970s of becoming a new model of the church, a ‘new way of being church,’ as the saying went, they never became anything like a mass movement.39
A limited number of BECs still exist in Oaxaca today, mainly in the urban parishes of
Xoxocotlán, Felícitas y Perpetua, and Siete Príncipes, and in the rural community of Apoala.
On average, some 120 people, mainly women, divided into groups of 10 to 15 people attend the meetings in each parish. They meet to reflect on the message of the gospel and carry out community work such as the organization of saving funds, the protection of the environment and garbage recycling, the production of compost, the procurement of legal assistance, and the promotion of political participation.
4.2.4 A Change of Attitude by the Church’s Hierarchy
While BECs, indigenous, social, and youth ministries were gaining momentum in the
1970s and 1980s, critical changes were afoot in the Church hierarchy both within Mexico and at the international level. During the 1980s when John Paul II became Pope, there was a conservative shift in the Church’s point of view. Many of the more progressive elements of
39 Berryman, personal communication, February 27, 2008.
149
the Church’s activities in Oaxaca were changed. Archbishop Carrasco, a strong advocate of the liberation theology was replaced by Héctor González Martínez, a much more conservative pastor This change in Church hierarchy led to a greatly diminished role for the indigenous ministry which had for more than three decades been the vital core of the Oaxacan diocese.
González disbanded SERESURE, the unique training ground for so many priests who served the indigenous and poor of the region, claiming it was a center for radical Communist teachings.40 González also closed the mission houses run by nuns, which had been so crucial to carrying out the indigenous ministry program, and he drastically reduced CEDIPIO’s role.
In Tehuantepec, Bishop Lona retired in 1998 and was replaced by a staunchly Vatican-line bishop. Most of the female pastoral agents, lay and religious, were withdrawn from their posts, and the promotion of BECs was curtailed significantly.41
Starting in 1993, the new archbishop defined a new mission for indigenous ministry which placed less emphasis on the cultural and more on the liturgical and social aspects of evangelization. Social ministry was reinforced in areas such as service to migrants, young women, detainees, and enforcement of human rights; indigenous and youth ministries, however, were weakened.
Some members of Oaxaca’s youth ministry perceived the change of direction taking place in the Church’s hierarchy as a factor limiting the achievement of their goal of servicing the indigenous communities. In order to keep their projects alive, they separated themselves from the auspices of the Church and formed independent civil organizations while
40 González made this comment after a similar one made by the Investigative Commission of the Holy Office, currently called The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, cited in Norget (2004).
150
maintaining liberation theology’s method and faith inspiration. A sample of these organizations, which is only a small portion of the close to 200 NGOs that exist in Oaxaca today, is presented below. This sample, however, is qualitatively significant as an illustration of the way in which Church-sponsored organizations transformed themselves into civil organizations after the hierarchy withdrew from the liberationist orientation. Thus, progressive priests, nuns and lay pastoral workers do not see an abandonment of the method of liberation theology but rather a transformation of it, from being used in BECs and Church- sponsored organizations to its use in civil organizations. Some of these organizations are:
• EDUCA: A non-traditional educational organization created in 1994 to promote and
strengthen the development of marginalized indigenous communities of Oaxaca. Through
political and civil educational projects, EDUCA encourages political participation of
community members in local government policies and fosters democratic practices.
EDUCA is independent from any political party, from all levels of government, and from
the Church, but it maintains respectful relationships with all of these and other political
actors. In some cases, it acts as an intermediary between the community and different
levels of government. EDUCA carries out its objectives through three main programs:
Community Economics, an educational program to promote the creation of community
savings funds and production and commercial cooperatives; Citizenship Buildup, an
educational program on human, indigenous, and civil rights; and Indigenous
Municipalities and Pueblos, a training program for future local officials consisting of the
critical study of the functions of local government. Particularly important in the latter is
41 Norget (2004).
151
the analysis of the compatibility between traditional-indigenous and urban-mestizo
conceptions of government, which frequently coexist in tension in Oaxaca’s
municipalities. EDUCA has received financial support from Oxfam New Zealand,
Community Aid Abroad, Oxfam Australia, and the Australian Freedom from Hunger
Campaign; and technical support from several Mexican organizations.42
• CENTÉOTL: A multifaceted community development center with projects in education,
micro-credit, and innovative agriculture, among others, was created in 1989 when a group
of young professionals sought to apply their professional skills to service the indigenous
communities of Oaxaca. The group’s work, directed toward mestizo and indigenous
communities in the central valleys and southern mountains, consisted initially of, among
other programs, the promotion of collective farming and purchasing; the generation of
innovative self-employment activities in targeted communities, such as beekeeping and
carpentry shops; the creation of cultural spaces, such as children’s libraries and dance
groups; and the training of women for productive activities. In its early years, the group
obtained support and advice from the Foundation for the Support of Popular Initiatives
(FAPROP), a Mexican organization that had in the past secured financing for some of the
diocese’s projects. Through this initial supporter, CENTÉOTL established a relationship
with a Dutch foundation, CEBEMO, which helped it launch its projects on a larger scale.
Two new projects that emerged at this time were the greenhouse cultivation of flowers
and grain milling, both under a cooperative scheme. Other Mexican foundations from
government and private sources followed with financial and technical support.
42 For more details see: http://www.educaoaxaca.org.
152
In 1994, CENTÉOTL was constituted formally as a civil organization under Mexican
law, which facilitated a more stable base of financial support from CEBEMO as well as
from Mexican and Canadian government sources. The latter promoted an exchange
between CENTÉOTL and indigenous Mohawk groups. The center established links with
other civil organizations in Oaxaca, neighboring Chiapas, and at a national level; it
developed a communications program through local television, video recordings, and a
monthly bulletin highlighting the cultural and artistic values of the communities that it
served. CENTÉOTL sometimes has been associated with the opposition Party of the
Democratic Revolution (PRD) because some of its members supported this party in local
elections. As an institution, however, CENTÉOTL claims to be a non-partisan
organization.
More recently, CENTÉOTL has launched two other significant projects: the
cultivation of amaranth, a high protein cereal that requires relatively little water, and the
establishment of micro-credit schemes with the advice of the Grameen Foundation of
Bangladesh. When financial support from Dutch sources was withdrawn, new ones were
obtained from the W.K. Kellogg Foundation for the educational project, Oxfam Australia
for micro-credit, and Oxfam New Zealand for the amaranth project. Throughout its
history, CENTÉOTL has operated based on the values and methods that were acquired by
its members during their youth ministry years. 43
• IXQUIXOCHITL: A children’s special education project started up by a former member
of youth ministry in 1996 in the district of Zaachila was designed to stimulate children’s
43 For more details see http://www.centeotl.org
153
early creativity, good health, and nutrition habits. The program is conceived as a
complement and not as a substitute for regular education of low-income indigenous
children. The director-founder and members of the center practice the methods and hold
the values of diocesan youth ministry. The program has received financial support from
the Christian Children’s Fund of the U.S. and is part of Foro de Niños de Oaxaca (FONI),
a children’s educational network.44
The leaders of all of these institutions acknowledge the influence of youth, social, and indigenous ministry’s principles and modes of action on their current mission.45 Another organization that, although not a direct derivation of youth ministry, received inspiration from the Church was:
• RED OAXAQUENA DE DERECHOS HUMANOS (RODH): A network of six human
rights organizations created in 1996 with the objective of strengthening education and
procurement of human rights of indigenous and other underprivileged groups of Oaxaca.
RODH, through its group of lawyers, carries out the legal defense of human rights
violations’ cases. The network also conducts presentations and courses geared towards
educating Oaxacan disadvantaged groups on their human and civil rights, and tries to
influence the design of public policy as it relates to the compliance with and enforcement
of human rights.46 RODH investigates and prosecutes, among others, cases of torture,
44 For more details see http://www.fonioaxaca.blogspot.com
45 Marcos Leyva, EDUCA; Cristina Salazar, IXQIXOCHITL; Othón Cuevas, CENTÉOTL and current federal Representative; María de Jesús Santaella, CENTÉOTL; and Beatriz Ramírez, former head of youth ministry and currently an activist in favor of indigenous rights: personal interviews summer of 2007.
46 For more details see: www.rodh.org.mx
154
unjustified imprisonment, violence against women, and migrants, agrarian conflicts, and
access to public information. RODH is part of a broader national network for the defense
of human rights, “All Rights for All People” (TDT),47 which in turn is linked to
international human rights organizations. Both RODH and TDT are constituted formally
as civil organizations and claim independence from any religious, partisan, or
governmental organizations. Nevertheless, both networks have a definite Church
inspiration. Several organizations that make up the network have been promoted by the
Church. Some of these organizations have retained prominent members of the Church,
such as Bishops Bartolomé Carrasco, Samuel Ruíz, and Arturo Lona, as advisors.
Youth ministry also had repercussions on individual’s modes of action in politics. One of its former members recently was elected mayor of Xoxocotlán, a town near the capital, and another was elected federal representative for Oaxaca in the 2006 election.48 In a private interview, both politicians acknowledged the formative influence that youth ministry had on them and described their incursion in politics as a way of pursuing their youth ministry goal of contributing to the betterment of society. Both men partly attribute the increased democratization in Oaxaca to the influence of the Church in raising the consciousness of indigenous and other underprivileged groups of their right to demand accountability from elected officials. Although the Church as an institution never supported any opposition political party, the latter often had the perspicacity, judging on the basis of the result of
47 For more details see: www.redtdt.org.mx
48 Roberto Molina, former Municipal President of Xoxocotlán; and Othón Cuevas, current federal Representative for the PRD personal interviews, summer 2007.
155
federal, state, and local elections, to choose as its candidates non-partisan citizens who were already contributing to society, many of whom had come out of Church -inspired groups.
4.3 Five Church-led Democratization Initiatives.
The Church has influenced society and politics in Oaxaca in diverse ways. In some cases, such as those described in the previous paragraphs, it has contributed to the formation of individuals or civil organizations, which have in turn promoted a broader political participation and contestation. In other instances, many priests, nuns, and a larger number of laymen and women have taken more direct action in leading and organizing protest movements against what they perceive as inappropriate, corrupt, or unfair government actions. In the post-1990 period, following the change of emphasis by the Church ’s hierarchy in Oaxaca, some of these Church agents continued to adhere to liberation theology’s method.
They have done so, however, under extremely difficult circumstances and with little or no support from the hierarchy. Liberation theology’s emphasis has been on its contribution to a more just society.
The importance given by the liberationist Church to understanding and responding to the demands of the indigenous cultures led it to defend indigenous ways of political and social organization and of relating to the environment. The first included the defense of the traditional practices electoral system. The second involved the promotion of cooperative organizations of farmers; the use of organic agriculture, and the protection of the environment and wooded areas. These actions entailed the development of trust among participants and, following Robert Putnam, led to the formation of social capital, which in turn was used to influence public policy. Five Church-led initiatives in these areas are described below. These
156
five cases have in common the attempt to break up the economic and political hegemony of
PRI caciques and the search for the recognition of traditional indigenous practices, thus promoting democratization. They also have in common the support or leadership of the
Church .
4.3.1 The Church in the Isthmus.49
Since the colonial epoch, the Isthmus of Tehuantepec has been characterized by strong social movements seeking cultural and political autonomy based on the ethnic identity of its people. During the 1960s and beyond, modernization projects, such as the construction of a hydroelectric complex, the building of the trans-isthmic and Pan-American highways, and the development of the oil unit in Salina Cruz have created frequent conflicts between the state and this region’s indigenous population. The latter is made up mainly of Zapotec, but also
Huave, Zoque, and Mixe groups. Conflicts have arisen out of these projects’ requirements to privatize or expropriate communal lands; from the growth of urban centers without adequate services; and from the general disruption of the traditional ways of social organization of the indigenous peoples.50 Social movements also have been motivated by the rejection of the political hegemony of the one-party system.
Some cultural traits, however, have survived the modernization drive. One of these is the strong organizational capacity of Zapotec women who have a tradition of forming voluntary associations through which they maintain their culture, foster relationships, and reinforce their ethnic identity. Women often have used these associations for purposes ranging
49 This section follows closely Muro (1994).
50 Marroquín (2007) 181,182.
157
from launching demonstrations against the control of public resources by caciques, to promoting regional trade and other productive activities.51 These women’s informal associations are, following Putnam, a meaningful source of social capital, which has been used to support democratization drives in the region.
In the late 1960s, following their rebellious tradition, people from the Isthmus— particularly from the city of Juchitán, one of the three largest cities in the region with population around 50,000—pioneered, at the national level, the struggle to undermine the centralized one-party political system. The ability of this region’s indigenous population to organize and sustain a radical political movement illustrates the group’s capacity to, using
Jeffrey Rubin’s term, “decenter the regime,” that is, shift the focus of the regional political struggle from an elite-centered approach to one in which ethnicity, language, gender, and religion play a crucial role in shaping the relationships of power. The Zapotec Indian movement used these cultural elements in unprecedented ways as weapons to overcome oppression in the 1970s and achieve democracy in the 1990s. Democracy in this context consisted of the Zapotecs’ capacity to govern themselves, express their culture, and attain autonomy and material well-being.52
The progressive sector of the Catholic Church sided with the popular movement and played an important role in accompanying, rather than leading, the struggle against the state’s dominance and repression. Since the early 1970s, the preoccupation of the Church was to assume a stronger commitment to overcoming social injustice and to develop political
51 Peterson (1975) 194–195.
52 Rubin (1997).
158
awareness. In order to do the latter, the Church followed Paulo Freire’s concientizacion
(consciousness-raising) method among the poor. Lay catechists were formed, following the
Medellín orientation, to support the evangelizing role of the few clergymen in the region. On
August 1971, Don Arturo Lona, a strong supporter of the Medellín approach to evangelization, was named Bishop of Tehuantepec and gave a definitive impulse to the role of the Church in denouncing an unjust social order. To be consistent with this orientation, Don
Arturo stripped the Church of any privileges and any association with the upper classes. This attitude led Don Arturo and his team to criticize equally the elites, the official party system, and capitalism to the extent that they all acted against the interests of the poor. Along these lines, the training of catechists and the formation of BECs proliferated.
This new ministry was faced with the enormous challenge of convincing a skeptical population of the benefits of Catholicism in overcoming social injustice and in allowing people to surmount the alienating effects of modernization. Don Arturo was able to surmount this challenge through the personal testimony and commitment of Church actors in favor of indigenous causes. Moreover, he was able to gain peoples’ trust at a time when they were re- establishing their political awareness and activism.
The antecedents of the movement go back to 1968 when Leopoldo de Gyves Pineda ran for office in Juchitán, the focal point of the struggle, as Representative of Communal
Goods against the incumbent. Although at that point still a member of the PRI, De Gyves, was supported by a group of students who had been educated outside Tehuantepec and had returned to the Isthmus with the intention of transforming the political system and supporting the region’s peasants in their struggles for land. De Gyves won the election that year and led the consolidation of a movement of workers, peasants, and students against local caciques. In
159
1971, the movement turned radical and promoted, sometimes through armed actions, the invasion of private lands, strikes, the freeing of political prisoners, and the rejection of increases in the cost of public services.
In that same year, Manuel Musalem Santiago, the son of a father of Lebanese descendant53 and a Zapotec mother, ran as a candidate of the Popular Socialist Party (PPS) for the presidency of Juchitán. Musalem, known as “Tarú,” was a charismatic leader with a strong
Zapotec identity, even giving his speeches in the Zapotec language. His charisma earned him the overwhelming support of the Zapotec community of Juchitán. Although Tarú won the election, the result officially was declared a tie between him and the PRI candidate. Large segment of the city’s population strongly rejected this official announcement and drew the attention of state and federal officials at a time when opposition party victories seldom were recognized. The dilemma was resolved through the creation of an “administrative council,” made up of PRI and PPS members, over which Tarú presided. Constant and intense opposition from PRI members of the council, however, forced Tarú to resign in 1973.
Nevertheless, Tarú set an important precedent: ethnic-based movements could defeat the PRI in that area.
The PPS, which had supported Tarú’s election, was unable to lead the opposition movement in Juchitán since it was weak, disorganized, and marred with corruption charges.
The weakness of the main oppositional political party forced a popular civil society organization to take charge of the movement. In 1974, the Coalition of Workers, Peasants,
53 In the early 20th century, the region of the Isthmus received a significant influx of people from Syria and Lebanon (referred to as “Turks”), as well as from China and Japan. These immigrants often became prosperous merchants and cattle raisers.
160
and Students of the Isthmus (COCEI) was consolidated and became the focal point of the drive towards political change. COCEI, however, also had limitations since it had to ally itself with an officially recognized party in order to have a reasonable expectation of winning an election.
In the mid 1970s, the movement led by COCEI was tolerated by state and federal governments attempting to indicate a relative political openness, but not to the point of recognizing independent candidates’ victories. In 1974, Héctor Sánchez, COCEI’s candidate, ran as an independent for the municipal presidency of Juchitán. When Sánchez’ lost the election, his supporters protested the alleged fraud with strong demonstrations. Protests were repressed by the state; this marked the beginning of a three-year period of violence between the state and COCEI, characterized by mutual accusations of fraud, corruption, and crimes. with the result was the removal of Governor Manuel Zárate Aquino by President José López
Portillo.
By 1977, despite electoral losses and some internal divisions, COCEI had won important victories. The movement had gained the support of large segments of the population throughout the Isthmus, launched successful strikes, gained concessions on the use of communal lands, and obtained a number of favorable resolutions to its demands for educational and urban services. Much of the organizational capacity of COCEI was based on voluntary associations, especially of women, with a strong ethnic identity. Thus, at this point, the balance of COCEI’s movement appeared positive. Building on this strength, Leopoldo De
Gyves Pineda, one of the movements’ pioneers, ran for the presidency of Juchitán. De Gyves lost and his defeat again instigated strong demonstrations alleging fraud. These demonstrations were repressed only to intensify the population’s rejection of the regime. A
161
remarkable aspect of this movement was that the more the organization was repressed, the stronger it grew and gained the support of the people.54
By this time, the Diocese of Tehuantepec had consolidated its ministry orientation under Bishop Lona. Catechists emphasized the idea that “the kingdom of God should be sought on this earth,” aiming to improve people’s socio-economic conditions. A significant contribution to this goal was the creation of cooperatives, which sometimes grew out of the organizational capacity provided by BECs.55 The diocese’s geographical perspective was broader than that of COCEI, which concentrated its efforts mainly among the Zapotec groups of the coastal sub-region of the Isthmus with Juchitán as its center. Furthermore, the diocese’s network throughout the South-Pacific Region gave it access to resources and support from the dioceses of Oaxaca, and San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. In 1977, the bishops of the
South-Pacific issued the seminal pastoral letter “Our Christian Commitment with the
Indigenous Peoples and Peasants and of the South-Pacific Region,”56 in which they vowed for a transformation of the unfair socio-economic structure of the area and committed to helping the poor become “agents of their own liberation.57”
Although with a different geographical scope, COCEI and the Diocese of Tehuantepec were united by their mutual objective of supporting the poor in attaining social, political, economic, and cultural emancipation. Thus, although not forming an alliance, the Church and
54 Rubin (1997).
55 Muro (1994) 222
56 Bishops of the South Pacific Region (1977).
57 Concha (1986); Quoted in Muro (1994) 222.
162
COCEI found a common ground on which to support each other.58 This meant that the Church was also a subject of repression. Repression had the same effect on the Church that it had on the movement—it strengthened the commitment of its members.
In 1980, Leopoldo de Gyves de la Cruz, son of de Gyves Pineda, ran as a candidate of the Mexican Communist Party (PCM), which recently had been recognized as an official party, for the municipal presidency of Juchitán. Like his father had before him, he lost this election. This time protests were carried out on a national level and were supported by several national political organizations. Demonstrations included sieges of several embassies as well as a rally at the Ministry of the Interior in Mexico City. The state government conceded the calling of new elections in which COCEI’s candidate finally won and allowed for the creation of the “Popular Town Council” of Juchitán, made up largely of COCEI members. The
Council successfully undertook a number of health, education, and urban infrastructure projects as well as the creation of a public radio station. In 1982, Héctor Sánchez, one of
COCEI’s leaders, was elected federal representative and supported the popular struggle in the
Isthmus.
Despite intense opposition from PRI members at the state and local levels, local businessmen, and the middle class of Juchitán, COCEI’s movement reached a high point of support around 1983. The movement not only had expanded regionally; it also had evolved from an ethnic-based organization to one which represented the interests of workers, and peasants, whether indigenous or not. COCEI obtained the backing of regional civil society organizations and independent trade unions. Among its accomplishments, COCEI obtained
58 Muro (1994) 223.
163
the liberation of political prisoners, compensation to fishermen affected by the national oil company, and the administration of judicial processes in the Zapotec language.
Church actors had continued to play a significant role in supporting the movement through the development of BECs, outreach to the poorest sectors of the population even in the most remote rural areas, and other activities. In 1978, the creation of a community center designed to strengthen indigenous and social ministries brought a new influx of missionaries.
In a 1980 meeting, bishops from Mexico, Perú, Brazil, Nicaragua, and Ecuador gave their backing to the evangelization process in the Isthmus. Starting in 1981, Church actors supported indigenous peoples’ struggles against the privatization or expropriation of communal lands, the overexploitation of the woods, the abuses of authority against Central
American immigrants and the production and trade of narcotics. In order to carry out these actions, Church actors developed links with members of COCEI who had similar objectives.
Another relevant line of action by the Church was the creation of coffee and trade cooperatives to circumvent the monopoly of the production and trade of basic commodities.
One noteworthy example of a coffee cooperative that served as a model for others in the state was the Indigenous Coffee Growers’ Union of the Isthmus (UCIRI), formed in 1983 under the leadership of two priests. The formation and development of UCIRI is discussed in the following section of this chapter.
In 1982, Mexico’s Cardinal Ernesto Corripio Ahumada, the former Archbishop of
Oaxaca in the late 1960s, was exhorting Catholics at a national level not to vote for leftist parties as part of his campaign against communism; meanwhile the bishops of the South-
164
Pacific Region issued their pastoral letter “To Live Political Commitment as Christians.”59
This letter had strong repercussions throughout the country because it acknowledged the freedom of political choice for all Christians. The letter denounced, one more time, social injustice and questioned accusations against priests or lay Christians of being “communists” as soon as they talked about politics. The bishops stressed that their fundamental criterion on politics was to side with the poor and to fight against social poverty. They noted, however, that not everyone in the Church has the same responsibilities: lay men and women participate in politics through political parties; priests and bishops, who should work for the unity of all people, do so in a broader sense without belonging to any political party. 60 In practice, political neutrality by Church actors was not always possible. Marroquín describes a number of cases, including the collaboration of the Church with COCEI in the Isthmus, in which local priests and bishops had to take a partisan position when trying to support the people against the monopolization of power.61
Although by the mid 1980s a relative political opening had allowed the recognition of a few opposition party victories in Oaxacan municipalities,62 the increasingly popular support for COCEI throughout the region preoccupied the state government, which intensified its criticism of the movement and of Juchitán’s Popular Town Council. Accusations, including the abuse of authority, the unwillingness to reach compromises, and the generation of a
59 Bishops of the South-Pacific Region (1983.
60 Marroquín (2007) 180.
61 Ibid. 181–183.
62 See Graph 5.1 on Chapter 5.
165
climate of insecurity and violence, were geared towards dissolving the Council. These accusations led to a violent confrontation on July 1983 on the occasion of federal congressional elections. The resolution of these conflicts required the convocation of new elections in November 1983 in which the PRI won by a small margin.
Once it had regained power in Juchitán, the PRI local and state governments intensified the repression against COCEI, which continued receiving strong popular support.
Starting in 1984, the state sought to undermine COCEI’s influence by bringing in public investment to Juchitán and the Isthmus, as well as by increasing police and military presence in the region. COCEI maintained its approach of promoting political awareness among the population and building relationships with civil society organizations at a national level although it was beginning to disregard the internal democracy of the movement.63
In a parallel situation, the Church’s political influence since the early 1980s gave rise to a strong reaction against it by the region’s caciques. Actions promoted by the Church, such as the organization of cooperatives and the denunciation of corruption and unfair land expropriations, clearly affected caciques’ interests. Throughout the 1980s, Bishop Lona was physically and verbally attacked with intensity. Don Arturo was accused before the Vatican, among other charges, of deviating the Church’s ministry from its spiritual role and of participating in politics.64 Similarly, during this period a group of Jesuit priests working in the parish of Ixhuatlán were expelled under accusations by caciques of participating in politics.65
63 Rubin (1987) cited in Muro (1994), p. 235
64 Muro (1994) 238.
65 Marroquín (2007) 183.
166
Nevertheless, the Church resisted these attacks and maintained its position in support of the region’s poor. Through this committed attitude, the Church in the Isthmus was able to overcome people’s skepticism on the benefits of Catholicism for their daily lives and to become a significant agent for change.66
In 1986, in alliance with several leftist parties, a more moderate COCEI proposed a candidate for that year’s municipal elections in Juchitán but lost to the PRI’s candidate who obtained 56% of the vote. Following that year’s electoral loss, COCEI staged a series of demonstrations alleging fraud, including hunger strikes and road blocks. In that same year,
Heladio Ramírez, a man with indigenous roots and controversial PRI member who was sympathetic to indigenous causes, became governor of Oaxaca. COCEI saw Ramírez’ assumption to power as an event favorable to its movement. That year’s elections were annulled, and a municipal council made up of an equal number of PRI and COCEI members was established.
From 1989 to the present, COCEI has governed Juchitán and a number of other municipalities in the Isthmus, not without frequent electoral conflicts and violence, in alliance with the PRD, which combined some of the previous leftist parties and PRI dissidents. The
COCEI of the late 1980s, however, was not exempt from internally undemocratic methods, abuses of power by its leaders, and misappropriation of funds. Some commentators have suggested that the organization’s more recent approach differs widely from the democratic- popular movement of the 1970s.67
66 Muro (1994) 239.
67 Chávez, Elías (1989), Proceso, No. 667, August 14, cited in Muro (1994) 237.
167
Nevertheless, COCEI’s leadership as a social and political broker in its area of influence is unquestioned. COCEI’s strong bargaining position with respect to state and municipal governments make it an effective intermediary on behalf of people’s needs.
COCEI’s success has been attributed to three factors: the proposition of a feasible alternative to the modernization drive in the Isthmus, the conformation of a strong ethnic and regional identity, and the launching of a movement with a clear class conscience.68
4.3.2 An Indigenous Coffee Cooperative.
UCIRI had its origins in 1983 when coffee producers began building links with other coffee cooperatives in the states of Veracruz, Chiapas, and Puebla. These associations of coffee producers originally were constituted under the auspices of the government’s National
Peasants’ Confederation (CNC) which, although it thwarted autonomous decisions by farmers, allowed them to learn production, industrialization, and commercialization techniques.
One year later, with help and advice from a group of priests, members of UCIRI sought and obtained legal and administrative independence from the state in an endeavor to attain better prices for their products, to eliminate middlemen, to use organic cultivation techniques, and to promote their products in the export markets. In addition, the members of
UCIRI embarked on other cooperative activities, collectively known as Organized
Community Work (TCO), complementary to coffee production. Examples of these are the teaching of organic cultivation; product quality improvement; land management techniques; the creation of savings funds and credit schemes; provision for local transportation,
68 Muro (1994) 237.
168
electricity, and potable water; and the creation of an agricultural supply shop, an educational center, and a health insurance scheme for its members. Not all of these activities were successful totally, but they all sought to make peasants’ fundamental activities independent of the patronage of the state and consistent with their traditional values and forms of communal organization.
UCIRI’s cooperative scheme is consistent with traditional indigenous values in at least two ways. First, organic agriculture is considered less harmful to the land from which people nurture themselves and with which indigenous people hold a sacred relationship. Second, cooperative modes of production, commercialization, and production of services are consistent with a communal decision-making process, communal land ownership, and mutual cooperation through tequio. The Church, with its emphasis on enculturation, strongly supported UCIRI’s project. Liberation theology’s method has allowed indigenous farmers to evaluate critically their socio-economic condition and to act consequently. Religious principles have strengthened and consolidated a system of meanings and practices that have helped farmers face the adversity of a political system that tends to dominate every aspect of their lives. At least two priests, Francisco Vanderhoff, a Dutch missionary of the Order of the
Sacred Heart, and Roberto Raygoza, a diocesan priest, were fundamental in both the constitution and the development of UCIRI. Although wholly managed by community members, UCIRI has retained both priests as advisors and coordinators of many of UCIRI’s daily operations, and mid- and long-term projects. One of Father Vanderhoff’s key contributions is the establishment of commercial relationships with fair-trade organizations, mainly in Europe, which also have helped UCIRI farmers obtain their organic certification for exports.
169
UCIRI is made up of approximately 2500 families of farmers that live and cultivate coffee and other products in 55 indigenous communities in the Isthmus region. UCIRI’s average yearly production rate is approximately 1,000 tons of coffee, although in recent years production has decreased due mainly to farmers’ migration to the U.S. UCIRI has among its customers fair-trade organizations in Germany, Sweden, The Netherlands, Italy, and the U.S., and is a member of several state, national, and international organizations that promote the production and commercialization of organic coffee. Exports are sometimes made through the
Oaxacan State Coffee Producers Network (CEPCO), which brings together close to 7,400 small coffee producers from 39 regional organizations throughout Oaxaca. In addition to the production and marketing of coffee, CEPCO is a multi-ethnic organization focused, on working with its members to strengthen and empower communities, and to address issues of social justice, cultural autonomy, and grassroots democracy. Through national-level organizations, UCIRI has been able to lobby and influence public policy on behalf of small coffee producers.69
4.3.3 An Environmental Protection Project.70
Another way in which the Church has endeavored to respect indigenous culture is by supporting traditional indigenous ways of electing local officials. In Putla, population
26,30771, as in many other towns in Oaxaca and Mexico up to the early 1990s, local bosses
(caciques) belonging to the traditional power holder, the PRI, held much of the political and
69 UCIRI’s Board of Directors, personal interview, July 31, 2006. For more details see: http://www.uciri.org
70 This section follows closely Méndez-Morales, (2001).
71 INEGI (2000).
170
economic control. In 1990, with the arrival of Father Jorge Pérez, the Church came closer to the needs of the people, following liberation theology’s approach. In 1992, three new political actors came up with the common goal of undermining the PRI’s hegemony: the Commission for the Defense of Citizenship Rights of Putla (CODEP), a citizens’ organization for the defense of free and fair elections; the organization of teachers, a group of around 1000 teachers that sided with the opposition party and had links with the national teachers union; and the local Church
In 1993, these three groups worked together in Putla to carry out an environmental protection project that was the starting point for organizing people to make the existing local officials accountable. Father Jorge Pérez led this initiative to stop the deterioration of woods and rivers, to recycle garbage, and to make compost with domestic organic waste, received the support of a large segment of the population. It became a great success not only in improving the environment but also in bringing people together for broader political goals. In terms of local politics, the ecological project prevented the disproportionate exploitation of the woods for the benefit of the groups in power and exposed local authorities’ incompetence in regulating and enforcing the appropriate disposal of wastes.
From the start, there was an affinity among the three groups, which also came together in 1995 to promote and oversee, with the support of national electoral organizations, the attainment of free and fair elections in the municipality. That year, the opposition won the elections, and governed for the stipulated three-year period (1996–1998). There was a sharply renewed organizational structure, a significantly increased participation by women, and strong support from the ecological group. Despite the PRI returning to power in municipal government by 1998, the power relationships in the community and the extent of citizen
171
participation in politics, to which the Church had contributed significantly, had been altered permanently.
4.3.4 The Preservation of the Woods.72
During the 1960s to 1980s, Santa Cruz Itundujia, a municipality of 10,685 inhabitants,73 was characterized by an unregulated exploitation of the woods for the benefit of a small group of people connected to local government. Throughout this period, the
Commissariat of Communal Goods, the municipal office in charge of administering communal land properties, established contracts with private and government-owned companies for the exploitation and commercialization of wood without consultation with or accommodation to community members who co-owned the land. The Commissariat’s arbitrary and corrupt procedure impinged on the indigenous consensual decision-making process and was a source of opposition to the municipal authorities of the town.
In the mid 1980s, four groups with strong citizen support rose up against the municipal government’s profiteering over communal lands. One was a group of citizens who organized to protect the community’s woods. The second was a group of peasants, mainly coffee producers, who joined together under a cooperative scheme to bypass the monopoly over the commercialization of their product. The third was a political action group, the Democratic
Peasant Union (UCD), which, although not a political party, introduced the PRD into the community as an officially recognized political alternative. The final was the Church; the arrival liberationist priest Tranquilino Martínez in 1983 provided the organizational structure
72 This section follows closely Méndez-Morales (2001).
73 INEGI (2000).
172
and motivation for the first two groups and established links with the UCD; several of its members had formed the parish’s BECs. Indigenous coffee producers became members of
MICHIZA, the Church -organized cooperative mentioned above.
Father Matrínez became so influential that in 1986 he was detained, tortured, and eventually expelled from the community by the municipal authorities. Nevertheless, the
Church maintained its presence through the work of religious and lay pastoral agents, and the opposition groups maintained their struggle to be elected to municipal government. In 1995, once the law that recognized traditional practices was passed, these groups attained their objective when the community member nominated by traditional assembly to head the municipal presidency became the candidate of the oppositional PRD. The latter governed for two successive three-year periods, 1996–1998 and 1999–2001, proposing as its priorities the accountability of government finances and practices, the undertaking of infrastructural projects, the abolition of clientelistic practices, and the inclusion of women into politics.
4.3.5 The Recognition of Indigenous Electoral Practices.74
From 1992–2000, the citizens of Santiago Ixtayutla, predominantly indigenous municipality of Oaxaca with a population 10,665,75 embarked on a struggle, to defend people’s traditional ways of electing their authorities and to oppose the hegemonic party a system. Although it began violently, the conflict ended successfully through the use of law.
Despite having been designated legally in 1995 as a municipality governed by traditional practices, the indigenous electoral system had in practice run against a series of
74 This section follows closely Méndez-Morales (2001).
75 INEGI (2000).
173
contradictions. Political parties insisted on having the assembly’s nominee identified with their respective partisan groups. Part of the struggle consisted in eliminating such party identification of the nominee and recognizing him instead as a traditional practices candidate.
The conflict started in 1992 when a group of PRI supporters attempted to appropriate the best communal lands and to illegally profit from hydroelectric project. An opposition group, supported by the Church, objected to these practices and sought to overthrow the elected officials. The conflict escalated into violence in June 1995 prior to that year’s municipal elections and resulted in fourteen deaths and the uprooting of seventy families from the village of Atoyaquillo, all of them supporters of the traditional practices. The displaced villagers sought legal recourse from the state government, which paid lip service to the plaintiffs and asked them to return to their communities.
The PRI governed Ixtayutla in a dictatorial and corrupt fashion during the period from
1996–1998. In the next election, the PRI ran against the traditional practices candidate and again managed to win through violence. This time, however, the election was declared invalid by the Federal Electoral Institute (IFE), a decision that was later overturned by the predominantly PRI State Congress. Post-electoral conflict erupted, and in 1999 the State
Congress suspended all municipal authority. Church -related legal groups sought federal and state intervention to guarantee indigenous peoples’ right to elect their authorities. New elections, for which special electoral rules were designed, were called for. In 2000, the traditional practices group won by a wide margin.
The contribution of the Church, whose pastoral agents were harassed constantly throughout the whole struggle, was key in various ways. The Church organized indigenous groups and persuaded them to reflect on their unfairly subordinate condition, developed a
174
critical attitude in citizens to demand government accountability, and provided crucial legal advice to the traditional practices group. Several lessons for the indigenous community of
Santiago Ixtayutla can be drawn from this episode; among them are the possibility of eroding the PRI’s hegemony, the increased credibility of legal recourse, and the reassertion of indigenous dignity.
4.4 Conclusion
This chapter presented evidence of the pastoral work of the liberationist Church in favor of the indigenous and other underprivileged members of Oaxacan society. Starting in the 1970s, the Church was active in two areas: first, in the promotion of civil society organizations designed to honor indigenous peoples’ rights and to service some of their needs; and second in the inducement of democratization at a community level through the leadership or accompaniment of Church actors. While these organizations and initiatives had their origin in religious principles, they were also from the start and through their evolution groups that aimed to resolve problems of every-day life and that fought for dignity and political emancipation.
The liberationist Church promoted the three types of CSOs discussed in previous chapters. It espoused radical civil society organizations by honoring traditional indigenous practices in the electoral as well as in the economic, social, and environmental realms.
Examples of this type of organization are ORAB, PROSA, MICHIZÁ, KIEE-LUU, FLOR Y
CANTO, and UCIRI. The Church also promoted cooperative civil society organizations, such as NGOs, that came out of youth ministry: EDUCA, CENTÉOTL, and IXQUIXOCHITL; and others that received advice and inspiration from the Church, such as RODH. Church actors
175
accompanied confrontational civil society organizations, such as COCEI, and championed democratization projects to undermine the monopolization of power and resources in PUTLA,
ITUNDUJIA, and IXTAYUTLA.
All of these initiatives contributed to democratization in Oaxaca by aiming to provide indigenous and other disadvantaged groups with the agency required to induce political reforms. Although from a very different perspective and with a very different motivation, the politics of recognition discussed in Chapter Three, and liberation theology through its indigenous variant, are worthy attempts to reach out and service the needs of indigenous peoples of Oaxaca. Following Weber, the politics of recognition provides a rational explanation, based on interests, for the pursuit of this goal; whereas liberation theology provides a cultural explanation based on religious motives for the same. Both explanations are interrelated: I propose that the initiatives that led to the legal recognition of indigenous forms of political organization have drawn heavily on the sense of pride, dignity, and organizational capacity that liberation theology fomented. Both attempts, however, have met only with partial success, and both have been thwarted in part by their respective hierarchies. Liberation theology has been restricted by the post-1980 orientation of the Church that required its circumscription to a spiritual role. The development of MCR has been prevented by the state’s post-1998 authoritarian practices, to be discussed in Chapter Five. Nevertheless, both endeavors have managed to adapt to the opposition and survive under modified manifestations. This chapter discussed the transformation of Church initiatives into independent NGOs and democratization projects. Chapter Five will analyze the ways in which civil society has resisted the state’s authoritarianism.
176
CHAPTER 5 SUB-NATIONAL POLITICS.
This chapter continues exploring the evolution of the state-society relationship in
Oaxaca, this time with an emphasis on the state. In parallel to the development of civil society discussed in Chapters Three and Four, this chapter explores the dynamics within the state, both at its national and sub-national levels, from the 1970s to the present. This period has witnessed an intermittent democratization process, which has evolved from single-party corporatism up to the 1980s, to pluralist tolerance up to the late 1990s, to authoritarianism from 1998 to the present. During the period of pluralist tolerance (1986–1998), the state responded positively to civil society demands through the enactment of multicultural reforms that are part of a broader project for state reform, and through the process of decentralization that was being carried out at a national level starting in the mid 1980s. As discussed in
Chapter Three, MCR contribute to democratization by expanding political options at the municipal level and by breaking up the one-party monopoly over local politics. Effective decentralization, in turn, can provide essential financial resources and the capacity to decide locally on their use. These two responses by the state, discussed in sections one and two of this chapter, also can provide, when combined, the critical elements to achieve an inclusive form of multiculturalism.
From 1998 to the present, politics in Oaxaca has witnessed a de-democratization process in which authoritarian state practices have thwarted the full democratization potential of MCR and decentralization, as well as the full development of civil society. Despite the formal recognition of indigenous rights during the 1990s, relationships of power among
177
communities, state, and federal governments have prevented the development of effective democratic institutions. The relative success of legislative reforms has not been accompanied by increased political participation of indigenous people in state institutions.1 In this period of de-democratization, Governors José Murat and Ulises Ruiz intensified co-optation techniques and used multiculturalism as a political banner over which they claimed exclusivity; thus they prevented participation by civil society actors in promoting further legislative reforms.2 The question of whether multicultural reforms as well as decentralization policies legislated in the mid 1990s have been stepping stones towards further democratization or controlled concessions aimed at regaining legitimacy of state and federal governments should be analyzed in the context of the re-emergence of authoritarianism since 1998.
As discussed in Chapter Three, in addition to authoritarian interventions by the state, indigenous communities have faced their own challenges when implementing the traditional practices legislation. These challenges are derived partly from the absence of a comprehensive regulation of this recently formalized system and partly from power struggles within and among communities. Decentralization, the second institutional response by the state, also has had only a limited success in fostering democracy. Decentralization became more an administrative reform aimed at re-legitimizing the state through the provision of public services throughout the country than a true delegation of authority at municipal level3.
1 Bartolome and Barabas, eds. (1998) 24.
2 Morales, www.usosycostumbres.org.
3 Cabrero (1998) 104–131.
178
This study has suggested that the positive contribution of civil society to democracy depends not only on the composition of civil society itself but also on the institutional response to civil society’s demands, on the capacity of various political actors to influence institutions, on the political opportunity for reform, and on the understanding of the cultural environment in which civil society develops.4 Since 1998, these conditions largely have been absent. Following Charles Tilly’s conceptualization, politics in Oaxaca has undergone a process of de-democratization during this period, which has been characterized by the disintegration of trust networks from public politics, the intensification of ethnic and socio- economic inequalities, and the increase in the autonomy of power centers or cacicazgos.5
Part of the explanation for the re-emergence of authoritarian practices in Oaxaca and other parts of Latin America is based on the implementation of elite pacts between national and sub-national actors. These pacts, based on compromises forged by elites behind people’s backs, have maintained short-term governability but also have given rise to unconformities by large segments of society, which have continued to suffer political exclusion and a deterioration of their standards of living. Consequently, these elite pacts have marginalized the popular sector and laid the foundations for future political instability.6 Authoritarian practices by Oaxacan governors from 1998 to the present and the undertaking of national-sub- national level pacts that sustain them have maintained governability through repression, but they also have given rise to a cycle of anti-state demonstrations followed by further state
4 Olvera (2003).
5 Tilly (2007).
6 Lievesly (1999) 5.
179
repression. In this period, the lack of compromise by both state and civil society has led to a non-democratic relationship between the two.
This chapter analyzes two fundamental questions:
• Why did the de-democratizing trend at the state level take place precisely at the
time of a democratization drive at the national level?
• How effective can civil society organizations be in offsetting these authoritarian
practices?
The answers to these questions are analyzed in two realms of politics. At the elite level
(section three), political parties and high level public officials made pacts on the terms and timing of the transition or the absence of it, and on the mode of interaction between national and sub-national level governments. These pacts thwarted civil society’s attempts toward broader political participation and contestation, while maintaining governability through a consensus among governing elites. At the grassroots level (section four), civil society organizations promoted partisan and non-partisan ways of political participation and contestation among indigenous and other underprivileged groups. At first sight, these efforts have not fructified in undermining authoritarian practices from 1998 to the present. On closer examination, however, these authoritarian practices have galvanized an increasing number of groups in opposition to the state.
5.1 Decentralization and Sub-national Democratization.
In addition to multicultural reforms, the second key demand by civil society and other political actors in Mexico starting in the mid 1980s has been political decentralization, that is, the shifting of authority and resources to municipalities and regions where the latter can be
180
used more transparently and efficiently. Political decentralization should promote democracy by encouraging the exercise of authority with greater accountability and responsiveness to public needs.7 In addition, decentralization in the management of resources at the municipal level should contribute to turning the cherished autonomy of indigenous communities into an effective measure to improve people’s socio-economic conditions. Hence, much of the struggle of civil society is directed to strengthening decentralized decision-making in municipalities.
In the mid 1980s, the state responded to this demand partly due to added pressure by international institutions such as the World Bank and the Interamerican Development Bank.
Decentralization was a key component of these institutions’ recommendations for neo-liberal economic and state reforms. Thus, neo-liberalism and globalization have not brought only harm to indigenous peoples. It is ironic, perhaps, that the rise of autonomy as the central demand of indigenous movements has been enabled in part by neoliberalism itself.8
Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, the state began taking measures to decentralize what had been an extremely centralized political system under the PRI. The negative results of centralization included a serious regional imbalance with relatively rich states in the north of the country and poor states in the south, an unequal distribution of wealth across classes (one of the most unequal in Latin America), bottlenecks impeding efforts to guarantee sustained economic development, and low levels of efficiency in public services.
7 Van Cott (2006).
8 Postero and Zamosc, eds. (2004).
181
We can think of decentralization on at least two levels: first, from central to state governments; and second, from state to municipalities. At the municipal level, one of the most important facets of the top-down decentralization process of the De la Madrid government
(1982–1988) was the amendment of Article 115 of the Constitution, carried out in 1983. This amendment sought to strengthen the legal standing of municipalities and to clarify their functions and responsibilities. The new legislation authorized municipal governments to collect property tax and specified in a detailed manner the public services for which they were responsible. The law, however, did not provide municipalities with decision-making authority that would allow them to promote economic and social development within their ambit and to free themselves from the tutelage of state governments when it came to defining public expenditures.9 In addition, the law was designed with urban municipalities in mind and had few repercussions in rural areas.10 For example, property tax is relatively irrelevant in most rural communities that often lack reliable tax collection and registry systems.11
In practice, the amendment of 1983 granted the municipality, a key factor in the promotion of social and political development in the country, only a minor role as a provider of urban services with limited autonomy. “Although the state promoted decentralization as a
‘democratic’ measure, in reality the federal government’s objectives were neither to increase political participation nor to introduce democratic reforms, but to improve government
9 Santín del Río (2004) 73.
10 Merino, Mauricio (1992), Fuera del Centro, Veracruz: Universidad Veracruzana, p. 116, cited in Misrahi (2004), p.40
11 Misrahi (2004) 52.
182
efficiency and maintain hegemony of the PRI.”12 The state expected to be legitimized in the eyes of society by the increased efficiency and agility in the provision of urban services. Thus, the law became merely an administrative rather than a political reform. 13
In 1999, Article 115 of the Constitution was amended again to grant increased powers to municipalities. Some of the most important points of this new reform were the recognition of the municipality’s authority to govern and not merely to administer resources coming from the central or state governments; to make decisions on public investment programs; and to provide for a police force.14 Still, given the limited capacity of states and municipalities to levy their own taxes, the majority of municipal expenditures continued to be provided and managed by the federal government.15 The allocation of funds from the central government to states and municipalities, however, increased significantly.16
While the contents of the 1983 and 1999 amendments are clearly progressive, their implementation has come into conflict with authoritarian practices that are still present in the state and federal governments. These authoritarian practices limited institutional and political reforms in state and municipal governments, even as they decentralized some public services.
The de jure decentralization of national government was limited by the de facto rigid control
12 Ibid. 34 and 51.
13 Cabrero (1998) 104 –131.
14 Guerrero and Gutiérrez, eds. (2000), Reflexiones en Torno a la Reforma Municipal del Artículo 115, Mexico City: Miguel Angel Porrúa and Centro de Investigación y Docencia Económica, cited in Misrahi (2004), p. 49 n 46.
15 Misrahi (2004) 49.
16 Up to 1997, 80% of all resources collected by the federal state remained in the center, 17% went to the states, and 3% went to the municipalities. By 1998, the federal government reduced its share by almost 10%, reserving
183
of municipalities exercised by state governments. This situation militated against incorporating bottom-up efforts to establish democratic governance. 17
Because of the limited scope of decentralization, many civil society organizations took upon themselves the task of strengthening municipal governments throughout the country in two ways: first, by promoting local government accountability; and second, by educating local citizens and functionaries in their rights and obligations in relation to municipal government. These two goals set by CSOs were meant to put pressure on state and federal governments to grant municipalities more autonomy and resources with which they could respond more effectively to citizens’ demands. Thus, municipalities became a breeding ground for democratic reforms inside and outside the realm of political parties.18
The civic educational task of CSOs became known as the Municipalista Movement and included training programs in municipal management for local functionaries as well as educational programs for the general population in areas of civil rights related to gender equality, health care, nutrition, housing, health and welfare of children, youth, and indigenous peoples, among others. The Movement is committed to improving municipal effectiveness and to increasing people’s participation in local decisions, thus reducing the tendency towards corporatism. Movement researchers have extended their reach to become familiar with other
Latin American governance experiences while also designing projects in support of
70.9% of all resources for itself, and allocating 24.4% to the states and 4.7% to the municipalities. Misrahi (2004) 48.
17 Santín el Río (2004) 60.
18 Ibid. 75.
184
indigenous autonomy.19 In assessing the need for the Municipalista Movement, Santín del Río suggests:
. . .the movement was consolidated in response to increased demands on [CSOs] for education and training to the extent that state and federal governments provide inadequate support or that they did so through excessively bureaucratic means. Today the participation and intervention of CSOs in the municipal arena continue to be essential.20
In Oaxaca, one key organization that participates in the Municipalista Movement is
EDUCA, a civil entity made up of former members of the Church-sponsored youth ministry, a
Catholic Church initiative that was discussed in Chapter Four. EDUCA has a program dedicated to, among other aspects, analyzing and educating future municipal leaders on the compatibility between traditional practices and liberal state policies. In some of the communities that it serves, EDUCA has contributed to municipal democratization by inducing greater participation and influence by citizens and municipal authorities on public investment decisions, a better understanding of people’s political and human rights, and a greater capability to enforce these rights through legal recourse. Some examples of EDUCA’s involvement in these areas are: a significant decrease in electoral conflicts and the legitimation of traditional practices in Santiago Ixtayutla, a much greater appreciation of the system of indigenous governance in San Dionisio Ocotepec, and a peaceful transition of government following a lengthy cycle of conflicts revolving around municipal power in
Asunción Tlacolulita and Santiago Ixtayutla.
19 Ibid. 74
20 Ibid.75.
185
EDUCA’s program also has contributed to improving the effectiveness and political stability of local governments through the formation of creative and dynamic grassroots initiatives. Examples of these are the replacement of rigid and closed forms of decision making with open, transparent, and participatory community assemblies in Santiago Ixtayutla; increased innovation and vitality in the implementation of traditional practices; greater political participation by women, and young men and women; and higher influence of grassroots movements at all levels of decision making. EDUCA has fomented the creation of versatile relationships among various political actors, including municipal and village authorities, state electoral authorities, and common citizens. This interaction, which did not take place before the establishment of the traditional practices system, increases the capacity of local government and citizens to take initiatives and negotiate social demands with federal and state authorities. EDUCA has consolidated and increased the effectiveness of its training programs through the School of Municipal Leaders, which offers a space for training and networking as well as for reflecting and debating on indigenous issues.21
Opposition political parties also took the opportunity to use decentralization measures as a way to press the federal government for broader participation in the country’s political life and to redefine the old subordination of states and municipalities to the central government. Thus, since the mid 1980s, opposition parties began increasing their share of state and municipal governments, and the theme of federalism was converted into one of the most important political issues in the country. In 2000, the PRD and the PAN together were
21 For more information on EDUCA, see: www.educaoaxaca.org.
186
able by building on local and regional electoral strength to end the control exercised by the
PRI for 70 years over the central state apparatus.22
The effects of decentralization on democracy and the state-society relationship in
Mexico, as in many other countries, have been uneven across regions and localities. Although we generally view democratization as a nation-wide process, at a sub-national level neither the increased opportunities for political participation nor the change of the party in government always have followed national trends. While decentralization unleashed democratizing trends in many states, it also freed local caciques in other states to make full use of local clientelistic networks, economic resources, and political machines to consolidate provincial authoritarian projects.23 In some places these authoritarian and clientelistic patterns persisted or were intensified even after the consolidation of a polyarchical regime at a national level. Over the last three decades, Oaxaca has gone through both progressive and regressive patterns of democratization. The 1986–1998 period saw a relative move towards controlled pluralism, while the 1998–2007 period has witnessed an increased authoritarianism and repression of opposition parties, the press, and public opinion leaders.24
5.2 The State-Society Relationship in Oaxaca 1986–1998: Semi-clientelism and Pluralistic Tolerance.
The combined twelve years of gubernatorial terms of Heladio Ramírez (1986–1992) and Diódoro Carrasco (1992–1998) were marked by a pluralistic tolerance of electoral
22 Santín del Río (2004).
23 Cornelius, Eisenstadt, and Hindley, eds. (1999).
24 Martínez-Vásquez (2006) 137.
187
politics. During Carrasco’s governorship, the left-leaning PRD became the state’s second party, and the PAN captured valuable municipal posts, including the coveted capital city of
Oaxaca. In 1989, the number of opposition-party victories in municipal elections reached 31,
22 in 1992, 46 in 1995, and 39 in 1998.25. Federal elections show, by 1997, only a fragile advantage for the PRI. Starting with 65%of the state’s votes in the presidential election of
1998 and 70%in the mid-term 1991 federal election for the Chamber of Deputies, the PRI vote decreased to 50% in the presidential election of 1994 and to 48% in the 1997 mid-term federal election.26
25 See Figure 5.1
26 See Figures 5.2 and 5.3
188
Figure 5.1 Distri bution of Oaxaca's Munici pali ties Governed by the Party System * 100% 90% 80% s 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% % of Municipalitie of % 20% 10% 0% 1980 1983 1986 1989 1992 1995 1998 2001 2004 2007 Others 2% 1% 2% 2% 1% 1% 1% 5% 5% 8% PRD 3% 2% 21% 19% 24% 32% 30% PAN 1% 1% 1% 1% 1% 7% 6% 14% 13% 5% PRI 97% 98% 97% 94% 96% 71% 74% 57% 50% 58%
*The total number of municipalities was 570 up to 1992, 158 in 1995, and 152 from 1998 to 2007.
Source: from 1980 to 1989: Martínez Vázquez, Victor Raúl and Fausto Díaz Montes (eds.) (2001), Elecciones Municipales en Oaxaca, Oaxaca: IEE and UABJO; from 1992 to 2007, Oaxaca’s Electoral Institute (IEE);
In addition, as discussed in Chapter Three, governors of Oaxaca in the period 1986 to
1998 were making advances towards pluralism through the formal recognition of indigenous rights. With similar motivations to those of the federal government, Oaxacan governors were using multicultural reforms to seek legitimation for their regimes and to try to divert attention away from further democratic reforms.
189
Figure 5.2 Oaxaca's Vote for President 100% 90% 80% 70%
e 60% 50% 40% % of Vot % of 30% 20% 10% 0% 1970 1976 1982 1988 1994 2000 2006 Others 1% 13% 8% 27% 10% 6% 6% PRD 3% 3% 27% 25% 46% PAN 3% 6% 5% 13% 26% 17% PRI 95% 87% 83% 65% 50% 43% 32%
Source: From 1970 to 2000, México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970-2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos (2004); for 2006, Federal Electoral Institute (IFE), www.ife.org.mx
These pluralistic advances, however, were only relative because, at the same time that gains by the opposition at the state level27 were tolerated, central government established semi-clientelistic federal programs. In his study on democratic transition in Mexico, Jonathan
Fox observes the regular co-existence of three patterns of state-society relationships: clientelism, enclaves of pluralist tolerance, and gray areas of “semi-clientelism” in between, all within the same nation-state.28 Politics in Oaxaca over the last twenty years confirms Fox’s characterization of these three forms of state-society relationships. Pluralistic tolerance and
27 These gains by opposition parties took place not only in Oaxaca but also in other states within Mexico
28 Fox (1994).
190
semi-clientelism predominated between 1986 and 1998. Authoritarian clientelism has been the most salient characteristic from 1998 to the present.
Figure 5.3 Oaxaca's Vote for Directly Elected Federal Representatives.
100%
80% e 60%
40% % of Vot % of
20%
0% 1970 1973 1976 1979 1982 1985 1988 1991 1994 1997 2000 2003 2006 Others 6% 11% 14% 12% 7% 12% 26% 16% 11% 10% 7% 19% 7% PRD 3% 3% 2% 4% 9% 26% 30% 25% 18% 42% PAN 3% 5% 1% 5% 7% 4% 5% 5% 12% 12% 25% 18% 17% PRI 90% 84% 86% 81% 83% 82% 65% 70% 50% 48% 44% 44% 34%
Source: From 1970 to 2000, México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970-2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos (2004); for 2006, Federal Electoral Institute (IFE), at www.ife.org.mx.
One key federal program of the late 1980s and early 1990s that illustrates this semi- clientelistic pattern of state-society relationships is the National Solidarity Program
(PRONASOL), of which Oaxaca was the largest recipient in the country.29 The program was launched by President Salinas de Gortari (1988–1994), who took office after a hotly disputed race marred by widespread fraud. PRONASOL was a social assistance program aimed at recovering legitimacy for Salinas’ government. The program officially targeted the urban
29 Snyder (1999) 315.
191
poor, peasants, and indigenous peoples with various programs for sewage and potable water, health, education, food distribution, electrification, street planning, housing, and soft loans for low-income producers.
Solidarity was clearly politically motivated in that it skillfully allocated disproportionate amounts of resources to recover areas of strong center-left electoral opposition. …While effectively allocating funds to the most depressed areas, Solidarity appeared to centralize power, promoting a symbolic link between the President and the local community, often bypassing both traditional political bosses and the opposition.30
Solidarity also had pluralistic claims: one goal was to move the power base away from the bureaucracy to the people with the emphasis on involvement and taking responsibility at the level of municipal government. With input from the INI, the thrust of the program was to reinforce the positions of indigenous organizations by having them become more self- sufficient and allowing them to determine how to spend their funds. A part of the program, known as the Regional Solidarity Funds, was designed specifically to increase the participation of civil society in decision-making and in the definition of policy.
Approximately 20% of these funds were allocated to Oaxaca. In an internal evaluation by the
INI, however, the effectiveness of these funds showed mixed results: approximately 25% of the funds were blocked or taken over by local bosses, 50% were managed not by local community organizations but by Solidarity Program managers, and only 25% were run by autonomous civil society organizations.31 Perhaps the single most revealing indicator of the program’s relative pluralism in Oaxaca was the allocation of funds to affiliates of the non- partisan CEPCO, the most consolidated autonomous grassroots economic organization in the
30 Fox (1994) 166–168.
192
state, made up of over 20,000 mainly indigenous producers. Among others, UCIRI, the
Church-promoted coffee cooperative discussed in Chapter Four, made use of CEPCO’s resources and trade channels.
In sum,
. . .an important minority of Regional Solidarity Funds made progress toward developing more tolerant relationships between reformist branches of the state and many of Oaxaca’s autonomous indigenous organizations. Nevertheless, this process lagged in much of the state because of entrenched semi-clientelism, authoritarian exclusion, and backlash, and the uneven degrees of consolidation among autonomous indigenous groups themselves.32
Through strategies of controlled pluralist toleration at the elite level, and semi- clientelism and multicultural recognition at the grassroots level, the PRI retained power in
Oaxaca in the 1986 –1998 period, at a time when many other states and municipalities in
Mexico were changing in favor of either the PAN (especially in the north) or the PRD (mostly in the south).
5.3 State-Society Relationships in Oaxaca 1998–2007: Authoritarian-Clientelism.33
In 1998, the balance shifted back towards an authoritarian-clientelistic type of state- society relationship; at the same time at the national level, the country was undergoing a historical change towards pluralist tolerance. Why did authoritarianism re-emerge in Oaxaca precisely at the time when at the national level the country was going though its most significant change of regime in over 70 years? The explanation lies in two key events at the
31 Fox (1994).
32 Ibid. 177
33 This section follows closely Gibson (2005).
193
national level that catalyzed the shift back toward authoritarianism in Oaxaca. First, internal struggles between reformists and traditionalist “dinosaurs” within the PRI created the need for governors to take sides in the struggle and to challenge national party strategies as they applied to their states. Second, under the weak Mexican federalist system, the change of party control of the national executive in 2000 freed PRI governors from partisan discipline dictated by the president and encouraged “boundary control” tactics, that is, the monopolization of national–subnational linkages and resources by states’ governors. These two events underscore the strong interrelationship between national and sub-national politics, and support the idea that local authoritarianism is not a local issue since all states and provinces are embedded in a larger system of territorial governance.34
In 1998, Mexico was going through a complex process of political transition. The PRI was divided on the terms and timing in which this transition should take place, and several members had left the party to join the opposition. President Ernesto Zedillo (1994–2000) had promised to permit the political changes to proceed yet he also had to be mindful of his own party’s unity and programs. Within this framework, José Murat, a prominent PRI politician at the state and national level, was an apparent candidate for the gubernatorial contest in Oaxaca.
Murat’s opponent to the PRI’s candidacy came from departing Governor Diódoro Carrasco’s circle. Murat had visible ties with Carrasco’s political adversaries and with the national dissident “dinosaur” wing of the PRI, which Diodoristas opposed. When Governor Carrasco
34 Ibid.
194
recommended his successor,35 Murat let the president know that he would change sides to the
PRD if he were not designated the PRI’s gubernatorial nominee in Oaxaca. In order to avoid having another well known politician desert the PRI and risk losing the PRI stronghold in
Oaxaca, Zedillo backed down from the confrontation. He ordered Carrasco to allow Murat to become the nominee; the disappointed governor’s reward was a promotion to the powerful
Ministry of the Interior.36
Murat won the gubernatorial race in 1998 with 49% of the vote and used the political leverage gained in his nomination’s process to try to consolidate his power in Oaxaca. Gibson suggests three strategies, which clearly were followed by Murat, by which authoritarian state leaders maintain political control in their region in a context of national democratization. The first strategy is the parochialization of power: control over provincial political actors and autonomy from national influences. As suggested by Schattschneider, in any situation of political conflict between two unequally matched parties, as in the case of the governor and local opposition forces, the stronger party’s main incentive is to keep the conflict as isolated and private as possible. The unequal power match between the two is thus maintained in this situation, and the stronger party will likely prevail in the conflict.37 To parochialize power,
Murat first needed to purge his opponents from within the ruling party. He removed all state government officers who had been loyal to his predecessors, Ramírez and Carrasco. In
35 The traditional practice of the PRI known as dedazo consists of the unilateral anointment of the succeeding executive by his predecessor. Dedazo, which has been practiced mainly at the national level and to a lesser extent at the state level, is gradually being dropped by the PRI throughout the country during Mexico’s slow passage to democratization starting in the 1990s.
36 Gibson (2005).
37 Schattschneider (1960).
195
addition any state representatives to the federal congress, both in the lower house and in the senate, who were part of these two governors’ political teams were isolated by Murat.
A second key element in Murat’s parochialization of power in Oaxaca was control over municipal politics. The governor was particularly forceful in this endeavor: he invoked a constitutional prerogative, which is meant to be used only in emergencies that threaten governability, to intervene in municipalities and replace disloyal local officials with submissive ones. To carry out these interventions the governor counted with the acquiescence of a docile state legislature, which was largely made up of members whom the governor had nominated. During his first five years as governor, Murat either suspended or eliminated 140 out of the 570 municipal authorities in Oaxaca. In the more urban municipalities, often run by the opposition, the most important intercessions occurred; out of 140 municipalities affected,
48 were in the hands of the opposing party. The result of these actions was substantial. The local elections in 2001 left the PRD with only 36 municipalities, a decrease of 12 positions.
The PRD controlled only 29 of the municipalities by the middle of 2003; 7 additional municipalities had been lost due to the governor’s intervention. The PAN also suffered losses in control of municipalities; they had won 21 initially, but by 2003 they only remained in control of 17. Convergencia, a political party/movement made up of ex-PRI members, however, suffered the greatest loss. They had been in power in 6 municipalities after the 2001 elections; by the middle of 2003 they controlled a single municipality, the capital city of
196
Oaxaca.38 The 2004 municipal elections, however, restored several opposition-party victories.39
Furthermore, Murat’s authoritarian-clientelism rewarded loyal municipalities through
. . .the allocation of state resources and a lenient application of the law. In these municipalities the state’s legislation and judiciary protected incidents related to the mismanagement of funds, often denounced by the population. In contrast, severe auditing processes were practiced on municipalities that were not subservient to the governor.40
All this was possible, despite widespread popular opposition, because of the governor’s control over the state’s legislature and judiciary.
After having selected loyal municipalities, Murat set himself up as the champion of indigenous rights and, together with the governor of Chiapas, launched a national campaign in favor of federal constitutional reforms that recognized, beyond the existing legislation, the demands of the indigenous peoples.41 In 2001, Murat’s government presented and channeled proposals for federal constitutional amendments to indigenous rights’ legislation from close to
250 Oaxacan municipalities.42 Murat did not accomplish the constitutional amendment that he supported but gained political capital and perceived legitimacy from a good number of
Oaxacan indigenous communities.
38 Reforma newspaper, (2003:14), cited in Gibson (2005).
39 See Figure 5.1
40 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 24.
41 Morales,: www.usosycostumbres.org.
42 Anaya-Muñoz (2006) 128.
197
After two years of Murat’s governorship, the PRI lost the presidency in the national elections. The election of Vicente Fox in 2000 strengthened Murat’s political control even further by relieving him not only of the structural restraints that centralized party rule had traditionally exercised over PRI state governors but also of his party rivals in central government. The incoming federal administration had pressing national agendas to pursue and could not afford to challenge authoritarian opposition governors. On the contrary, the new president needed members of the opposition party who would open lines of communication; supportive municipal governors were crucial to this plan. Incongruously, the growth of party competitiveness within the national context assisted with the “re-authoritarianization” of local politics. This has been the nature of the relationship between the PAN central government and the PRI governors of Oaxaca up to this day. As Gibson asserts:
. . . democratically elected central governments may find that the costs of challenging peripheral authoritarians outweigh the benefits because the authoritarian periphery serves the democratic center in tasks vital to national political governance. If sub-national authoritarianism persists in a nationally democratic country, therefore, it is because it often meets important strategic needs of national democratic governments..43
Gibson goes on to suggest a second strategy that authoritarian governors follow in a context of national democratization, the nationalization of influence, that is, leverage that governors exert over national political leaders either by influencing the designation of officials in the national government (legislative, executive or judiciary) or by forming part of national coalitions that support the national executive.44 Coalitions with national forces present local elites with the power to affect choices significant to their provinces and,
43 Gibson (2005) 107–108.
198
additionally, to strengthen their local control and independence. State leaders also often use local political control and access to national arenas as means to fulfilling their aspirations to become national leaders. 45
Murat’s goals in the national arena were to increase his influence in the internal struggles of the PRI as well as in the design of national policy. To accomplish these goals,
Murat allied himself with the PRI national faction led by Roberto Madrazo, who was then president of the party (2002–2004), leader of the “dinosaur” wing of the PRI, and from 2005 candidate for the presidency of the country. As governor, Murat played a key role in the election of Madrazo to the presidency of the PRI. As an influential PRI member after leaving the governorship of Oaxaca, Murat supported Mardazo’s candidacy to the presidency. Despite
Mardazo’s loss in the 2006 presidential race, the party rewarded Murat by designating him federal representative for the period 2006 to 2009.
The third strategy suggested by Gibson is the monopolization of linkages between national and sub-national governments, which gives governors the control over federal resources (financial, services, communication flows, relationships with legislators or federal agencies, etc.) allocated to their states. To have power locally, it is necessary both to suppress local opposition and to block any allegiances with outsiders which might shift control away from incumbent elites. Almost 90% of the Oaxacan state government’s funding comes from the federal government. Although a portion of these monies are direct unreserved transfers to the state, a considerable sum is transferred to the state for specific projects and programs
44 Gibson (2005) 110
45 Ibid. 110–111.
199
which are supervised by federal “delegates.” These delegates serve as a vital link between the state and federal governments. They are aware of local requirements and circumstances, manage federally sponsored local initiatives, and are responsible for overseeing the use of federal funding. Two years into the administration of President Fox, Murat removed the federally appointed delegates and replaced them with others of his own choosing. The federal government chose to steer clear of a confrontation at the local level to facilitate creating agreements with political opponents on a national level, especially the PRI. Hence, there was little objection from the PAN central government to Murat’s decision to replace these delegates.
Yet a further move to dominate the local-national connection was the modification of the make-up of the state’s national congressional delegation. In 2001, Murat was able to pressure is party to appoint a group of candidates friendly to him who eventually became deputies in the national congress. This action allowed Murat to more easily obtain concessions from the national congress that would be beneficial to the Oaxaca government and to gain support for the local election of members of his party. Ulises Ruiz Ortiz, a national senator who would later succeed Murat as governor in 2004, coordinated the 2003 federal elections for the PRI in Oaxaca.
Through these three strategies, Murat consolidated his control over Oaxacan politics and inaugurated an era of “authoritarian governorship,” which Martínez-Vásquez defines as
. . .a form of governing characterized by being centered on the governor’s personality; by being based on fear rather than consensus; by exercising a discretionary application of the law, more than by the true rule of law; by the patrimonial use of power and resources, rather than by a republican conception that places power and resources in the hands of the people; by hiding and
200
manipulating public information, thus rejecting accountability, freedom of the press, and legislation that promotes transparency in every act of government.46
Despite the short-term success of these strategies in affirming Murat’s power in
Oaxaca, the governor’s authoritarianism had unfavorable consequences for the PRI in the mid-term. In municipal, state, and federal elections, the decreasing trend that the PRI had begun exhibiting in the previous two administrations was continued. As an illustration of this downward trend, following Murat’s regime the PRI received 43% of Oaxaca’s vote for president in 2000, down from 50% in 1994;47 in 2004 the party won the tightest gubernatorial race in Oaxaca’s history with only 48% of the vote;48 and the percentage of municipalities governed by the party system in which the PRI won decreased from 74% in 1998 to 57% in
2001, and to 50% in 2004.49 Only in local congressional elections, where Murat’s co-optation and coercion of the opposition was most effective and where the indigenous communities and some civil society organizations display the highest abstention rates, was support for opposition parties not immediately reflected.50
In the realm outside of political parties, Murat’s authoritarian-clientelistic style alienated or repressed grassroots and civil society organizations which criticized his regime, but rewarded those which supported it with jobs, contracts, and other incentives. This selective approach was followed towards a multitude of organizations ranging from public
46 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 19.
47 See Figure 5.2
48 See Figure 5.4
49 See Figure 5.1
50 See Figure 5.5
201
transportation networks, to contractors for public works, to press and media concessions, to indigenous organizations, among others.51 This line of attack against disloyal CSOs thwarted these organizations’ attempts to foster political change. Through these actions, Murat polarized society and brought together large segments of the state’s population, indigenous and non-indigenous, against his regime. General discontent with Murat would accumulate with that against his successor and explode violently in the second half of 2006. The origin of the 2006 crisis, to be discussed in the following section, in large part derived from Murat’s authoritarian governorship. A number of CSOs that had been affected by the governor took sides with the popular movement that opposed Murat’s successor.
51 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 25, 26.
202
Figure 5.4 Oaxaca's Vote for Governor 100% 90% 80% 70% e 60% 50% 40% % of Vot % of 30% 20% 10% 0% 1980 1986 1992 1998 2004* Others 7% 7% 11% 3% 8% PRD 2% 2% 9% 37% 44% PAN 4% 4% 5% 10% PRI 87% 87% 75% 49% 48%
* In 2004 the percentage for the PRD represents the PAN / PRD / CD coalition.
Source: from 1980 to 1986: México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970-2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos (2004); from 1992 to 2007, Oaxaca’s Electoral Institute (IEE).
In the 2004 gubernatorial election in Oaxaca, Murat managed to impose the PRI’s candidate and to defeat an unprecedented electoral coalition made up of the PAN, PRD and
Convergencia Democrática (CD). This remarkable partnership took place only by the intercession of national parties that had a vested interest in Murat’s defeat and by overcoming the opposition of the local leaders of those parties. The leader of the coalition belonged to CD, a dissident party that came out of the PRI and which at one point was allied to anti-Madrazo factions in the national PRI. Hence, the PRI factional struggle helped to bring about the
“multi-party” alliance against Murat in Oaxaca. In spite of the victory of the Oaxacan PRI in
203
the August 2004 election, the party-led effort against Governor Murat’s project of authoritarian control seems to have produced a major transformation of Oaxacan politics; this was the first genuinely contested gubernatorial election in Oaxaca’s history.
Amidst widespread belief that the elections were fraudulent,52 Ulises Ruiz, the official
PRI candidate for governor, won the election with 48% of the vote and 17 of the 25 electoral districts in his favor; the opposition party garnered 44%. These results showed the range of the PRI’s territorial power in the state. This result, however, hides the high abstention rate largely among indigenous people, who are generally skeptical of party-based elections, particularly at the state level.53 Despite having won with a mere 4% margin, Ruiz would have basic control over all of the state government. In the 2004state legislative elections, the PRI won 18 of the 25 contested seats in single-member districts.54 Again, the absence of independent candidates from indigenous sectors, which by law are not allowed, reinforced the
PRI’s nominal dominance in the state’s legislature. Municipal elections showed a similarly favorable outcome for the PRI, having obtained victories in 74 of the 152 municipalities that elect their officials through the party system.55 This electoral outcome suggests that the multi- cultural legislation came at the cost of enabling the PRI to maintain control, on a thin electoral basis, of those municipalities that elect their officials through political parties. Ruiz’s main opposition would come from the remaining 412 municipalities that elect their officials
52 Cué, Gabino (2004), Oaxaca: Transición Democrática o Regresión Autoritaria. La Lucha contra el Fraude y la Elección de Estado en el Sur de México, manuscript, cited in Martínez-Vásquez (2007), p. 31
53 See Figure 5.7
54 See Figure 5.5
55 See Figure 5.1
204
without the intermediation of political parties. One way in which Ruiz would confront these municipalities would be through the control of resources coming from the central government.
What he would not be able to control so easily, however, would be the loud and sometimes violent demonstrations from these and other sectors of civil society that erupted in the city of
Oaxaca in mid-2006.
Figure 5.5 Composition of Oaxaca's Congress.* 100% 90% 80% 70% s 60% 50% 40% % of Seat % of 30% 20% 10% 0% 1974 1977 1980 1983 1986 1989 1992 1995 1998 2001 2004 2007 Others 17% 13% 17% 13% 10% 5% 0% 5% 12% 17% PRD 8% 13% 24% 31% 19% 19% 14% PAN 0% 0% 8% 13% 8% 4% 10% 12% 10% 17% 14% 10% PRI 100% 100% 75% 75% 75% 75% 68% 60% 60% 60% 55% 60%
*The total number of congressional seats was, up to 1977, 15; from 1980 to 1989, 24; in 1992, 31; and from 1995 to date, 42. Of these, 25 are directly elected and 17 are assigned according to the principle of proportional representation.
Source: from 1974 to 2001, México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970-2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos (2004); from 2004 to 2007, Oaxaca’s Electoral Institute (IEE).
The new governor, lacking legitimacy from the perspective of large segments of the population, continued with the authoritarian cycle started by José Murat. Ruiz repressed and
205
selectively prosecuted his political adversaries, the press, and civil society organizations by fabricating charges of corruption, illegal labor strikes, and crimes, among other tactics. In doing so, he concurred with impunity in serious violations of human and civil rights, such as intimidation, threats, imprisonment, and direct violence. In addition, he used federal funds to finance all sorts of useless projects with the dual aim of winning votes and generating resources for the presidential campaign of the PRI to be held on July 2, 2006.56 The governor also infuriated large segments of the population by unilaterally launching a major
“remodeling project” of the colonial city of Oaxaca, the capital of the state, which has been declared Patrimony of Humanity by UNESCO. Through these actions, Ruiz helped to create the atmosphere in which a popular opposition movement could grow.57
5.4 Citizens’ Response to Authoritarianism.
In the electoral realm, the adverse reaction to Murat’s and Ruiz’s authoritarian regimes peaked in the 2006 federal election when nine out of eleven representatives and two out of three elected senators from the PRD came out ahead. Similarly, the PRD presidential candidate captured 46% of the vote, more than the PRI’s 32% and the PAN’s 17%.58
56 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 31, 36–40; Recondo (2007) 460–461; Comisión Civil Internacional de Observación por los Derechos Humanos (CCIODH) (2007), Informe sobre los Hechos en Oaxaca, Quinta Visita del 16 de diciembre de 2006 al 20 de enero de 2007, Barcelona. 40–43
57 Esteva (2007).
58 See Figures 5.2, 5.3, and 5.6 with data from Federal Electoral Institute (IFE) website: www.ife.org
206
Figure 5.6 Oaxaca's Vote for Dir ectly Elected Federal Senators
100%
80% e 60%
40% % of Vot % of
20%
0% 1970 1976 1982 1988 1991 1994 1997 2000 2006 Ot hers 5%25%8%26%15%11%11%7%6% PRD 3% 3% 9% 26% 30% 25% 45% PAN 3% 0% 7% 5% 5% 12% 12% 25% 16% PRI 91% 75% 82% 65% 70% 50% 47% 44% 33%
Source: from 1970 to 2000, México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970-2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos (2004); for 2006, Mexico’s Senate, at www.senado.gob.mx.
In the realm outside of political parties, discontent that had been accumulating throughout Murat’s and Ruiz’ regimes turned into local violence in mid-2006. The immediate antecedent of that year’s outburst of violence was related to the customary annual process of collective bargaining for salaries and benefits by the Local 22 of the Teachers Union. Since its formation in 1980, this local, a dissident faction of the National Teacher’s Union, has displayed a sturdy rebelliousness with respect to the national labor organization that it sees as an internally undemocratic and corporatized entity under the PRI. Nevertheless, Local 22 has not gained complete autonomy and remains reluctantly linked in some ways to the national movement. With 1.2 million members, the National Teacher’s Union is one of the largest
207
unions in Latin America.59 The original aims of the dissidents were to seek the labor movement’s democratization and better salaries. In recent times, however, both labor groups,
Local 22 and the National Union, have undergone deep internal divisions and frequent accusations of partisanship and corruption by their leaders.60
Local 22 distinguishes itself from other dissident factions by the strong influence that it traditionally has exerted on the government of Oaxaca. Based on its large membership
(close to 76,000 members)61 and organizational capacity, Local 22 is one of the most visible oppositional forces to the state’s government.62 The Union’s yearly demonstrations in recent years have included not only economic and union-related demands but also others with broader political and social implications, including the liberation of political prisoners and demands for state reform. Throughout the years, the Union has developed alliances with other political actors such as civil society organizations and political parties. Among the latter, the
PRD is often the conduit through which the union postulates its members to run for public office.63
Because of the strong political influence of Local 22, Oaxacan governors from 1980 to
1998 were cautious not to intervene in the union’s internal affairs in order to attempt to favor or build an alliance with one of its sub-factions. In 1998, Governor Murat changed this attitude and built political ties with the current leaders of Local 22. Murat developed this
59 CCIODH (2007) 26.
60 Yescas (2008) 66.
61 CCIODH (2007) 26.
62 Yescas (2008) 67.
63 Ibid.
208
relationship by, among other actions, supporting the struggle of the Oaxacan Local against the
National Teacher’s Union and the federal government. These alliances built by Murat with some of the union’s leaders became problematic for Governor Ruiz during the collective bargaining process of 2005 when internal divisions within the union produced complex negotiations. Nevertheless, that year one of the sub-factions predominated within the union and was able to reach an agreement with Governor Ruiz. In contrast, the 2006 contract negotiations were the starting point of a broad and violent political conflict. That year’s negotiations were complicated by the political circumstances that resulted from the federal election campaign: Governor Ruiz was determined to support the PRI’s candidate for the
Presidency, Roberto Madrazo, but the Union had a closer affinity with the PRD candidate.64
The 2006 negotiations were distinct in that the Union was accompanied by several labor and civil organizations that held grievances against governors Murat and Ruiz.
As every year during May, the 2006 bargaining process began with the suspension of classes, street demonstrations, blocking of roads, and the occupation of the city’s central plaza by the union’s members and supporters as a way to exert pressure on the government. On
May 21, the Union set up a temporary camp in the central plaza of Oaxaca evidently expecting a lengthy effort. This time the union included certain demands in its bargaining packet that clearly went beyond what the state government could satisfy.65 The union’s demands were meant to be satisfied partly by the state government and partly by the federal government’s Ministry of Education and Ministry of the Interior. The governor hardened his
64 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 85.
65 See Yescas (2008) 68 for a detail of these demands.
209
position and sought to exert his authority at all costs by imposing the terms and conditions of the negotiations. At the same time, the governor, whose priority at that moment was the support of the PRI candidate to the country’s presidential election to be held on July 2, failed to seek the resources that were required from the federal government to respond to the union’s demands.66 In response, the teacher’s movement turned radical and demanded the removal of the governor under charges of repression, corruption, and damage to the cultural patrimony of
Oaxaca, among others.
In a clumsy effort to disperse the demonstrators, on June 14 the local police triggered the reverse outcome; many local organizations that opposed Ruiz threw their support to the
Union. In June of 2006, this was the beginning of a new type of common organization; almost
350 different civil society groups assembled under the aegis of the Popular Assembly of the
People [singular] of Oaxaca (APPO). This gathering was a spontaneous response to the specific circumstances and so was not considered a formal organization. Many groups that initially had not been included chose to band together with one common goal: the expulsion of Ruiz from the governorship.67
The groups drawn together by APPO were very diverse. They ranged from extremist organizations that sought a transformation of the political and economic structure of the state through violent means, to labor organizations, to neighborhood associations, to NGOs concerned with promoting issues such as human rights, a free press, the protection of the environment, gender equality, education, rural development, and many others. All of these
66 Ibid.
67 Esteva (2007).
210
organizations felt alienated by the authoritarian practices of governors Murat and Ruiz. 68
Among these organizations were those discussed in Chapter Four of this study that had been influenced by the Church: ORAB, PROSA, KIEE-LUU, FLOR Y CANTO, EDUCA,
CENTÉOTL, IXQUIXOCHITL, and RODH. Representatives of EBCs were also part of
APPO.
Given this large diversity of interests and methods of action APPO was born with an intrinsic difficulty to reach consensus. At its inception in 2006, APPO was merely an association of leaders of civil organizations; none of them had yet polled their membership for interest in participating in APPO. Almost at once, APPO tried to reclassify their purpose and tactics. It altered its name to the Popular Assembly of the Peoples [plural] of Oaxaca, in acknowledgment of the plurality of the groups that formed it. APPO also altered its goals and internal organization. The democratically inclined sector of APPO appeared as a legitimately popular movement including direct activity by the people and the gathering of many different organizations. Now its purpose was not just to support the trade union movement although it continued to do so. Under the auspices of APPO, many organizations became active in their own missions. When it was first established, APPO was coordinated by a 30 member board which was occupied mainly with trying to resolve the internal differences among the various groups and deciding the most effective method for building on people’s deep dissatisfaction and genuine wish for change.69
68 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 70.
69 Esteva (2007).
211
Indigenous organizations initially were reluctant to join the popular movement. Even though some important indigenous leaders were involved at the founding of APPO and others had been active participants in the early demonstrations, internal debates about whether to join the movement continued within indigenous communities for months. Often these discussions were manifestations of deep-seated tensions between the indigenous communities and the teachers. The indigenous groups were hesitant to support what they viewed as a strictly trade union movement on behalf of the teachers. APPO did not actively encourage indigenous participation. Nevertheless, indigenous groups eventually decided to continue supporting the struggle.70
Rather than a single movement, APPO should be seen as a “movement of movements” where organizations of different types converge. Some of these organizations are long established such as those that make up the indigenous movement and those of peasants, feminists, environmentalists, and supporters of human rights and cultural traditions. Other movements arose or were more clearly defined as a result of APPO. An example is the urban people’s movement, which developed a new vitality and significance during the demonstrations. Other local organizations, such as the Isthmus, the Sierra de Juárez, and the
Coast acquired a more precise voice and purpose. From the beginning, the role of women has been central in all facets of APPO; indeed, feminists are recognized as having been the heart and character of the organization, and as having created an impact on its future direction. In
70 Ibid.
212
sum, APPO was made up of a large number of civic organizations dedicated to very diverse activities and closely linked to existing groups and communities.71
In part due to the assortment of organizations gathered together under the umbrella of
APPO, disagreements were bound to arise. The diversity of groups also affected the speed with which decisions could be made and actions implemented. From June 20 through
November 12, 2006, a 30-member coordinating group tried to guide the actions of APPO.
Neither this group nor a subsequent Council, however, had actual decision-making authority nor did they officially speak for APPO. Nevertheless they did manage to communicate information and principles of action to APPO members at crucial moments, as well as to organize systematic demonstrations. In sum, there was never a single voice that could speak for or control the disparate member groups that constituted APPO. Participants undertook autonomous actions and initiatives.
In one way, the lack of a centralized leadership was a positive factor. There was no single person who could make mistakes or betray the movement. The power of the democratically inclined sector of APPO was not based on a single episode but rather on the traditional drive of people questing for political change. These Oaxacan groups had their very roots in a long practice of social strife and grassroots activism. They had long tried to institute change through legal and established channels with little success; only then after all institutional methods were exhausted did their tone become more radical.72
71 Ibid.
72 Ibid.
213
Besides the stress that existed between APPO and Local 22, other conflicts were evident within APPO. Some of the internal tension arose from the different approaches, goals, and methods of the various groups. Some of APPO’s members supported peaceful and democratic protest activities. Others considered a degree of violence to be a calculated aspect of their dissent. The strongest divisions were between organizations with a localized focus and membership and those with a more national membership and viewpoint. Although the local groups appreciated the backing and collaboration of the national groups, their focus was always on the local issues and needs. These local groups resisted the pressure to subordinate the movement to national or international agendas, particularly those of political parties.73
Amidst this complex environment, however, extremist groups predominated within
APPO when staging public demonstrations between June and October. Throughout this period, APPO carried out several marches–some of them with up to 500,000 people—through the city’s streets, burned government vehicles, set up barricades, suspended classes, seized control of radio stations, and dislodged government offices. The government’s repression of demonstrators resulted in 14 people dead between July 28 and October 18, hundreds detained, and numerous violations of civil and human rights.74 There were also indications that the government employed tactics of infiltration and fabrication of evidence in order to discredit the movement. These tactics were meant to make APPO members appear responsible before public opinion for some of the burning of buildings and other aggressions.75
73 Ibid.
74 CCIODH (2007) 94.
75 Martínez-Vásquez, (2007) 89, 116–118.
214
Although, as is to be expected, different sources produced contradictory reports about this violent conflict, one thing seems certain: neither the methods used by civil society organizations—which were dominated by extremist groups—nor the repressive response by the government were carried out within the law.76 The violent events that took place in
Oaxaca in 2006 illustrate that, as discussed in Chapter Two of this study, civil society organizations are not always democratically inclined, and state institutions are not always prepared to address civil society’s demands. This conundrum raises the ethical question of whether violent actions by civil society are justified when confronted by an illegitimate and authoritarian government.
An intermediation commission, made up of, among others, Bishop Arturo Lona,
Father Francisco Mairén-representing the Archdioceses of Oaxaca-and Oaxacan artist
Francisco Toledo, was formed on June 24 to try to facilitate negotiations between the Union and the state government. A meeting was held on June 27 among the members of intermediation commission, leaders of the Local 22 of the Teacher’s Union, and a representative of the federal government. No agreement was reached and the commission was suspended temporarily. On August 11 a new intermediation commission was formed. This time APPO requested that mediating body be Servicios y Asesoría para la Paz (SERAPAZ), a civil society organization founded and directed by Bishop Samuel Ruiz. A new series of meetings was held starting on August 29 in the Ministry of the Interior (SEGOB) in Mexico
City in which 28 members of APPO (14 from the Union and 14 from other organizations),
76 The International Civil Commission on the Observation of Human Rights (CCIODH), has documented the killing, disappearance, and unjustified detention of several hundred demonstrators during the May to November
215
Carlos Abascal, Minister of the Interior, and Bishop Ruiz and members of his team participated. Some of the key demands by APPO, in addition to economic improvements for the teachers, were the removal of Governor Ulises Ruiz, the liberation of political prisoners, and the carrying out of a political reform in Oaxaca.
Secretary Abascal offered to satisfy most of the teachers’ economic demands through a package that was considered generous and to launch a forum to discuss political reform in
Oaxaca. With respect to the removal of Governor Ruiz, Abascal offered to propose to the
Senate the formation of a commission to analyze the merits of carrying out an impeachment procedure.77 After making this pronouncement Abascal received severe criticism, mainly from
PRI members of congress, who rejected the idea of giving in to APPO’s demands in this respect and considering the impeachment one of its party’s governors. Furthermore, several
PRI and some PAN members of congress suggested the idea of sending federal troops to restore order in Oaxaca rather than ceding to APPO’s demands. PRI members of congress threatened to join with the PRD in impeding the recently elected PAN President from taking the oath of office on December 1 if Abascal, a prominent PAN member, insisted on proposing impeachment procedures.78 The PAN badly needed the support of the PRI in Congress in order to allow President-elect Calderón, who had won the election by a very narrow margin and was being contested strongly by the PRD, to take the oath of office. Under these circumstances, national-level pacts between PRI and PAN took precedence over consideration
disturbances in Oaxaca. The Commission also has obtained more that 300 testimonies from witnesses of the conflict. See CCIODH (2007).
77 Ibid. 35; Yescas (2008) 70–71.
78 Martínez-Vásquez, (2007) 122–123.
216
of removal of the governor of Oaxaca and Abascal’s proposal lost credibility. APPO rejected
Abascal’s offer, including the economic package for the teachers, and negotiations were suspended on September 20.79 Thus, paradoxically, the integration of the union with APPO, which had given force to the movement, debilitated the teachers’ negotiating position. 80
This negotiating process with SEGOB made evident the contradictions within APPO.
Local 22 instigated a trade-union dispute based on specific economic requirements; in contrast, APPO came into being as part of a broad political and social agenda.81 There was also internal conflict within Local 22 itself because many of its member teachers supported the broader APPO movement. These ordinary teachers played a critical part in APPO, eventually rebelling against the leaders of their trade union. Gustavo Esteva noted: “APPO continuously supported the trade-unionist struggle of Local 22, but did not allow itself to be defined by it. This contrast gave rise to all kinds of tensions that came into the open at the end of September when, without having achieved a substantial concession to its demands, the teachers decided to return to their classes and end their mobilization.”82
The democratically inclined sector of APPO, in turn, facing the arrival of federal troops, had assembled its members for a constitutional convention. It was at this time that
APPO declared its Citizens’ Initiative for Peace, Justice and Democracy83 and held the Forum
79 CCIODH (2007) 36.
80 Yescas (2008) 71.
81 The demands of Local 22 momentarily took on a political expression but never lost their original aspect. Once the demands were satisfied, at least on paper, its mobilization ended.
82 Esteva (2007) 80.
83 Esteva, ed. (2006).
217
of Indigenous Peoples of Oaxaca.84 The contents of these two initiatives are described below.
Part of the difficulty in understanding APPO’s movement, however, is that many of the documents and pronouncements issued by its democratic sector, such as those that came out of these two initiatives, differ widely from the violent actions of the movement’s extremists.85
On October 28, federal troops arrived in Oaxaca to support Governor Ruiz’ repressive stance and staged violent confrontations with APPO members. The armed altercation, which produced 8 deaths between October 27 and 29, hundreds of detainees and some 20 burned buildings, ended on November 25 when demonstrators retreated.86 Again, infiltrations by government agents among the ranks of APPO with the intention of discrediting the movement were detected.87 The intervention of the federal government in bringing this crisis to an end seems to have reinforced the conditions that originated the conflict: authoritarian governorship has been set as a form of sub-national government in Oaxaca and has become an obstacle to the dismembering of the clientelistic structures of power.88
Despite the success of the repression, APPO’s movement did not rescind. The diversity of the innumerable movements and organizations, however, has made it impossible to identify a single path for APPO.89 Diverse proposals for political reform were put together
84 Foro de los Pueblos Indígenas de Oaxaca. (2006).
85 Recondo, David (2007), “Oaxaca, el Ocaso de un Régimen,” Letras Libres, No. 98, February, cited in Martínez-Vasquez (2007), p. 152.
86 Martínez-Vásquez (2007); CCIOH (2007) 94.
87 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 170.
88 Ibid. 183.
89 Esteva (2007).
218
in three different initiatives. First was the October 12, 2006 Citizens’ Initiative for Peace,
Justice, and Democracy,90 which differed from proposals put forth by the government in that spokespeople from all sectors of Oaxacan society joined in. Members of APPO, of indigenous organizations, of the Church, and private businessmen all participated in the discussions. This
Citizens’ Initiative developed out of an earlier APPO appeal (August 16–17, 2006) to convene a Constitutional Assembly.91 The outcome of this latter meeting was the drafting by a group of lawyers of a set of norms to strip all state officials of discretionary powers, making them accountable directly to the people acting through their assemblies. Close to 1500 representatives from civil groups, trade unions, municipal government, academia, the media, human rights’ centers, women’s groups, and others met together and shared ideas in this later meeting. No one expected that APPO would support any of the opposition political parties, which were generally perceived by the participating organizations as co-opted by the PRI.92
Lastly, the Forum of Indigenous Peoples of Oaxaca,93 which convened on November
28–29, 2006, examined basic concerns of indigenous peoples, such as self-determination and autonomy; land, territories, and resources; intercultural indigenous education and communication; and human rights violations. More than 14 different ethno-linguistic groups were represented at this forum. In addition, delegates from many civic groups who had long backed indigenous peoples also were in attendance. The participants to the forum openly
90 Esteva, ed. (2006).
91 Foro Nacional: “Construyendo la Democracia y la Gobernabilidad en Oaxaca,” Organizaciones de la Sociedad Civil; Asamblea Popular de los Pueblos de Oaxaca; Autoridades Municipales, Comunales y Agrarias; Sindicato Nacional de Trabajadores de la Educación Sección XXII; Oaxaca, Mexico, August, 2006.
92 Esteva (2007).
219
identified their demands, among which was the ouster of the governor. They condemned the governor’s abuse of the law and declared the need to build a stronger popular movement, singling out APPO as the most crucial association that coordinated people at the grassroots level. The existing institutions and authoritarian government in Oaxaca, they stated, did not fulfill the requirements or the expectations of the people; it was time for a public, nonviolent conversation among all citizens. It concluded as follows:
We Indian peoples wish to inform society and government of Oaxaca, of Mexico, and of the whole world that the enormous abuse to which we have been subjected by the public authorities does not intimidate or paralyze us, as we have shown by carrying out this Forum. We are concerned that what little was left of the rule of law–continuously violated by Ulises Ruiz–has now been destroyed by the federal government. We are under an undeclared and therefore illegal state of emergency. This concerns us and prompts us to act with extreme caution. But it does not hold us back. Our path is clear and we are going to continue along, in our own way, with our own tempo and rhythm. This path includes the transformation of all the norms and institutions that currently define our common existence [convivencia]. We are not going to achieve this by ourselves. But never again will we be excluded from the processes of conceiving and operating these norms and institutions.94
Although there are differences among the various propositions put forward by participants in these three initiatives—the proposals by indigenous movements, for example, are not identical to those advanced by environmentalists or human rights advocates—clear convergences are present also. Three schemes for reforms may be synthesized out of these three fora. First is the need to develop a stronger democratic process with the goal of achieving free and fair elections. The second scheme is the establishment of a more participatory form of democracy, which allows all citizens and civil society organizations to
93 Foro de los Pueblos Indígenas de Oaxaca. (2006).
220
take part in the design of public policy and to prevent arbitrary decisions by officials. Some specific mechanisms to accomplish this goal are:
• Popular initiative. Citizens should be able to, with enough signatures to support them,
propose bills to local Congress.
• Referendum and plebiscite. Citizens should have the opportunity to approve or reject
government decisions, policies or programs.
• Recall. Citizens should have the power to recall any elected official.
• Participatory budget. Citizens should have the right to participate in discussions
related to the approval and implementation of public works and programs.
• Transparency. Government should provide timely and complete information regarding
all its actions, so that they can be adequately monitored.
• Social control. Citizens and their organizations must have the power to prevent
corruption actively through supervision of administrative processes.
The last scheme is radical democracy. The debates centering on electoral and participatory democracy involved modifying laws and existing institutions; radical democracy, however, centers on what people can do for themselves to bring about change and improve their lives. Over generations, indigenous peoples have employed their own systems of communal government, contrary to liberal institutions. The point of this third scheme is to expand this type of self-government to a larger number of people.95
94 Ibid. “Pronunciamiento Conjunto de los Pueblos Indígenas y la Sociedad Civil de Oaxaca,” quoted in Esteva (2007) 86.
95 Esteva (2007).
221
These three schemes were proposed in public manifestos that sought to bring about immediate practical changes as well as medium term legal and institutional reforms, such as those achieved in 1995 and 1998. 96 The PRI government of Oaxaca has thus far ignored these proposals, failing to distinguish between the sometimes-violent leadership of APPO and the assembly’s sector of civil society organizations that makes constructive pro-democracy proposals such as the above.
Despite its contradictions, the Oaxacan popular movement produced broad demonstrations of solidarity from national and international civil society organizations and public figures, particularly those concerned with the compliance of human rights, such as
Amnesty International, the International Civil Commission on the Observance of Human
Rights, the Human Rights Center “Miguel Agustín Pro Juárez,” the civil organization “Todos los Derechos para Todos y Todas” (TDT),97 and the research center “Centro de Estudios
Ecuménicos” (CEE). The last three were founded by and have as their members Catholic
Church actors.
From 1998 to the present, the PRI has maintained political hegemony in Oaxaca through repression; the co-optation of electoral, judicial, and legislative institutions; and the concurrence of the federal government. It also has capitalized on high abstention rates and on the political isolation of indigenous groups governed by traditional practices. The PRI’s hegemony has been constrained, however, to those municipalities that govern themselves through the party system, where it won 87 out of 151 races in the 2007 election. This means
96 Esteva and Regino (2007).
97 Martínez-Vásquez (2007) 164–165.
222
that the PRI governs over only 39% of the state’s population.98 In the local congressional election of August 2007, the PRI obtained a landslide victory with the vote of only 17.4% of the electorate, winning in all of the 25 single-member electoral districts of the state.99
Abstention rates were close to a usual 65%.100 This electoral behavior conveys strong skepticism by large segments of the population toward party-based politics, irrespective of party, especially in relationship to the local congress that is perceived largely as ineffective and subordinate to the state’s executive.101 Breaking this strong skepticism of large segments of the indigenous population has been one of the main challenges of some Oaxacan NGOs, such as EDUCA through its Municipalista Movement.102
98 See Figures 5.8 and 5.1
99 Seventeen other congressional seats are assigned to opposition parties based on the principle of proportional representation.
100 See Figure 5.7
101 Hernández-Navarro 2007.
102 See Section 5.1 for some of EDUCA’s programs and accomplishments.
223
Figure 5.7 Comparative Voting Abstention Rates
80%
70%
60%
50%
40%
30% Abstention Rate Abstention
20%
10%
0% 1980 1982 1984 1986 1988 1990 1992 1994 1996 1998 2000 2002 2004 2006
Federal Elections State Elections Municipal Elections
Federal and state election of directly elected representatives. Municipal election in municipalities governed by the party system.
Source: federal and state elections from 1980 to 1989, México Electoral: Estadísticas Federales y Locales 1970- 2004, México: Grupo Financiero Banamex, Estudios Económicos y Sociopolíticos, 2004; and from 1991 to 2006 IEE and IFE. Municipal elections from 1980 to 1989: Martínez Vázquez, Victor Raúl and Fausto Díaz Montes (eds.) (2001), Elecciones Municipales en Oaxaca, Oaxaca: IEE and UABJO; and from 1992 to 2006, IEE.
224
Figure 5.8 Oaxaca's Municipal Elections Population Governed by Political Party in 2007
45% 39% 40% 36% n 35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 13% 10% 10% Per cent ofP opulatio 5% 2% 0% PRI PRD PAN Others Traditional Practices
Source: Juan Martínez, Victor Leonel (2007), “Partidos de Oposición en Crisis, PRIismo Autocomplaciente,” En Marcha, (95), October.
Roughly two years after the violent confrontation, the government claims to have restored peace and order to Oaxaca. This calm, however, is only apparent on the surface. The conflict produced a serious deterioration of the economic condition of the state that is based largely on tourism. People remain enraged by the local government’s arbitrary decisions and use of scarce resources. Investigations related to violations of human and civil rights by government agents have not been completed. In sum, peoples’ disagreement with their government has not been resolved, it has merely been suppressed. Although formal APPO meetings seldom take place, the movement’s spirit that entails a strong desire for political change is still present among large segments of the population. Divisions within the
225
movement, however, also remain. The national political circumstances have changed with respect to 2006. Nevertheless, the PAN national government continues needing the support of the PRI to enact important reforms such as that of the energy sector. Hence, it is likely that the
PRI-PAN alliance at the national level will continue supporting Governor Ruiz’ authoritarian governorship in Oaxaca for some time to come.
5.5 Conclusion
Over the last 38 years, the state-society relationship in Oaxaca has gone through different stages—from state corporatism to controlled pluralism, to authoritarian clientelism.
Efforts towards democratization yielded some positive results in the 1986–1998 period when the state was receptive to civil society’s demands and multicultural reforms were enacted.
Throughout this period, the PRI maintained power in Oaxaca through pluralist toleration at the elite level and multicultural recognition in search of legitimacy at the grassroots level.
Despite problems of implementation, interventions by foreign actors, and internal conflicts, it seems reasonable to expect that, rather than being obstacles to liberal democratization, multicultural reforms will have contributed to making political change a process that indigenous people perceive not as an imposition from the outside but as something built from within their communities.103
Since 1998, however, the state’s authoritarian reaction has thwarted civil society’s efforts towards further democratization. The two forms of the state’s institutional response— multicultural legislation and decentralization policies—to demands for reforms have been
103 Recondo (2007).
226
used by this period’s governing groups in Oaxaca to advance their narrow political interests.
Throughout this time, national politics coalesced with authoritarianism at the state level to prevent the development of democratic institutions in Oaxaca. The new PAN central government maintained its position of not challenging an authoritarian PRI governor and seeking instead broader agreements with the PRI at the national level. Political pacts between federal and state governments, and among political parties at a national level, have maintained a fragile form of governability in Oaxaca that ignores the demands of large segments of the population, as expressed sometimes violently during 2006.
Citizens’ interest in higher political plurality has been expressed in the electoral realm since the early 1990s when the hegemony of the PRI began to wane. The 2006 federal congressional and presidential elections, and the first-ever contested gubernatorial race in
Oaxaca in 2004, are clear signs of citizens’ concern for increased pluralism. For a large proportion of the Oaxacan population, however, formal or representative democracy seems to be a costly formula for political control by the small governing group who use it to ensure their permanence in power. In many peoples’ view, pacts between national and sub-national level governments and political parties produce a type of democracy against their interests.
High abstention rates, which peaked at 69% in the 2001 state congressional election, seem to indicate a strong skepticism about the party system that at the state level is dominated by the state’s executive. Lower abstention rates in federal elections would indicate peoples’ relatively higher belief in the federal electoral process.104
104 See Figure 5.7
227
Outside of party-based elections, the people of Oaxaca are well versed in a different type of political participation, radical democracy, which puts citizens in control of government. Under ideal circumstances, this type of direct democracy is practiced, in rural indigenous communities as well as in some urban settings. Public demonstrations during the second half of 2006 are indicative of the high tension that exists between these two competing concepts—representative and radical democracy. Although, as discussed in the main body of this chapter, Oaxaca’s popular movement is made-up of a complex array of organizations that includes extremist groups, many of the people who demonstrated in 2006 felt the legitimate right to demand the removal of an unaccountable government, as they do in their communities. Public demonstrations also reflect the strength of civil society, which has decided to confront an authoritarian government rather than tolerate its abuses. Despite the lack of a long-term solution, the 2006 conflict brought together democratically inclined civil society organizations in an attempt to build a consensus in favor of a meaningful state reform and government accountability.
Progressive actors of the Catholic Church supported this democratically inclined sector of Oaxaca’s popular movement in two forms: indirectly, through support to the movement provided by Church-promoted civil society organizations and BECs; and more directly, by acting as intermediaries in the negotiating process between APPO and the state and federal governments. Despite the failure to reach a democratic and peaceful resolution to the 2006 conflict, the presence of Church actors as intermediaries signifies their continued influence at a broad popular level and their credibility at the elite government level.
Although democratization in Oaxaca faces serious obstacles from the current authoritarian government, at the grassroots level people seem to be gradually moving in a
228
direction of favoring pluralism and rejecting old state corporatism. Despite being repressed, the people of Oaxaca are undergoing their own internal democratization process. When the national-subnational elite pacts that sustain state authoritarianism change, Oaxacan civil society will be well prepared to elicit and receive serious attention to its proposals for political reform.
229
CHAPTER 6 CONCLUSIONS
In the preceding chapters, I have sought to analyze some of the mechanisms of political inclusion of underprivileged members of society, the obstacles that these members face in attaining inclusion, and the factors that might help them gain greater influence on public policy decisions. I have studied these issues in the particular context of Oaxaca over the last thirty-eight years. The central argument of this dissertation is the following:
Civil society has been a significant factor in inducing democratization in Oaxaca by transforming the state-society relationship from co-optation to contestation, as well as in conveying the culturally determined political demands of the indigenous peoples to liberal political institutions. Key to this dual process has been the progressive sector of the Catholic
Church, which has had a strong influence on the development of civil society and on the formation of indigenous actors who have challenged authoritarian practices of state and local governments. The processes of democratization and de-democratization in Oaxaca depend in large measure on the ways in which national and sub-national actors shape the balance between cooperative, confrontational, and radical forms of civil society. Where political opportunities for reform allow confrontational forces to gain great capacity to challenge categorical inequalities, the processes of democratization have greater chances of succeeding.
Where national and sub-national elites are able to use cooperative and radical spaces in civil society to restrict contestation, de-democratization should be expected.1
1 I am grateful to professor José Antonio Lucero for his contribution to this formulation.
230
6.1 The Role of Civil Society
The ambiguous concept of civil society led us to a cautious assessment of a causal relationship between civil society and democracy since it became clear that not all forms of associations that are independent from the state contribute to democratization. Nevertheless, I could establish a significant influence of certain civil society organizations in sparking some democratization processes in Mexico as a whole, as well as in the state of Oaxaca.
At the national level, the Mexican polity evolved from an institutionalized corporatism in the 1940 to 1968 period to a gradual opening of the political system, catalyzed by civil society, from 1968 to 2000. One of the key moments of this transformation was the creation in 1994 of the Civic Alliance (Alianza Cívica), as a nonpartisan citizens’ organization with the mission of supervising and ensuring the honesty of that year’s presidential election. As
Leonardo Avritzer has indicated, Alianza Cívica “. . . changed the political landscape of the country by restoring a moral component to the process of electoral competition”2. In 1996, following the concept introduced by Alianza Civica, the Federal Electoral Institute (IFE) became organized as a citizen-managed institution in charge of organizing and supervising the electoral process. As Avritzer notes,
[Citizen control of the IFE] allowed the critique of electoral fraud and informal electoral monitoring practices to be transformed into an institutional form of electoral organization with citizen participation. The result was a public arena in which public action became compatible with a democratic process of decision-making.3
2 Avritzer (2002) 4.
3 Ibid. 9
231
Avritzer concludes that these events allowed democratic forms of collective action by civil society, for the first time in Mexico.
At a sub-national level, the heavily indigenous state of Oaxaca was a pioneer in the country in the development of civil society organizations that since the 1970s began contesting the state with the main goal of defeating cacicazgos (the rule by local bosses usually associated with the PRI) at a local level. Starting in the mid 1980s, these organizations articulated a set of demands related to the recognition of indigenous rights. These demands included not only the improvement of the socio-economic conditions of the indigenous peoples but also the recognition of their differentiated culture, language, notion of citizenship, and traditional electoral practices. From 1995 to 1998, the formal recognition of some of these cultural traits through constitutional amendments was a key achievement of civil society organizations and other political actors. Among other reforms, indigenous communities were granted the right to govern themselves according to their traditional ways of non-partisan politics. Thus, multicultural reforms demonstrate the feasibility of the coexistence of a political party system with an alternative non-partisan form of political participation, as well as the feasibility of incorporating non-liberal forms of political behavior in liberal institutions.
Multicultural reforms exhibit a democratization potential by expanding the political options of the indigenous people outside the realm of parties and by fostering the three processes that Charles Tilly suggests are necessary to induce democratization in any society.
These processes are: the integration of trust networks (in Oaxaca’s case, of traditional indigenous forms of association and culture) into public politics; the insulation of public politics from major categorical inequalities (in Oaxaca’s case, of ethnic inequalities); and the decrease in the autonomy of major power centers (such as cacicazgos in Oaxaca) with respect
232
to public politics. 4 Although these three processes have not been fully carried out, either because of weaknesses inherent in the traditional practices or because of authoritarian interventions in subsequent years, their advancement from 1986 to 1993 marks a democratizing trend in Oaxaca.
Multicultural reforms and traditional electoral practices, however, do not always contribute to democratization. As Luis Hernández Navarro notes: “In communities where the system is not well developed autonomous direct rule may reinforce political control by local bosses. Alternatively, if effectively carried out, communitarian life might achieve self- government and root-out the caciques.”5 Despite the challenges that carrying out multicultural reforms represents, these efforts on the part of indigenous people in Oaxaca have transformed ideas about rights, community, and citizenship, and have confronted the long tradition of paternalism and clientelism manifest in traditional party politics.6
Multicultural reforms highlight the profound transformations that have taken place in
Oaxaca society. Hernández-Navarro lists among the most significant changes “the rising politicization of society, the emergence of human rights groups, the sustained mobilization of community and regional movements, and the reaffirmation of ethnic identities that has stimulated the upsurge in political representation without recourse to political parties.”7 The key political lessons derived from traditional indigenous practices are the feasibility of a more
4 Tilly (2007).
5 Hernández-Navarro (1999) 167–168.
6 Recondo (2007).
7 Hernández-Navarro (1999) 154.
233
direct form of democracy at the municipal level and of integrating non-liberal forms of political participation into liberal institutions.
The creation of the IFE and the legislation of multicultural reforms in Oaxaca are examples of how the inclusion of public forms of discussion and deliberation, contrary to the assumptions of the democratic elitist tradition, reinforce rather than weaken democratization processes.
6.2 The Role of the Progressive Catholic Church
The progressive Catholic Church has contributed to democratization in Oaxaca by promoting the formation of civil society organizations in defense of the human and civil rights of society’s most vulnerable groups and by leading or supporting democratization projects in indigenous communities, thereby undermining a single-party political dominance. Progressive members of the Church—bishops, priests, nuns, lay pastoral workers—have contributed to indigenous peoples’ goals of defeating cacicazgo. Among other actions, they have organized production, trade, and savings cooperatives which circumvent the control exercised by caciques of local productive activities; supported traditional practices and multicultural reforms; demanded state accountability; and led or supported protest movements against what they perceive to be inappropriate, corrupt, or unfair government practices. Most fundamentally, the Church has contributed to democratization by instilling in underprivileged and largely indigenous members of society the idea that they are worthy citizens who deserve to have their voices heard and to play a more active role in shaping political institutions and practices.
234
This study has claimed that liberation theology has shaped the development of civil society in Oaxaca by emphasizing people’s rights to socio-economic emancipation and dignity as children of God. In Oaxaca, this largely meant developing a theology that understood indigenous culture and supported indigenous causes. Despite the withdrawal of support from the Church’s hierarchy since the early 1990s, liberation theology, and the influence of its ideas, has not disappeared; many priests, nuns, and a larger number of lay people continue to adhere to its principles.
In fact, religion and politics have remained strongly intertwined in Oaxaca as well as throughout Latin America. However, according to Hannah Stewart-Gambino “. . . the focus has shifted from whether religious belief can be used as a tool for mobilizing the masses in revindicalist movements, [as proposed in the 1960s and 1970s,] to whether participation in religious institutions can be perceived as contributing to a ‘denser’ and potentially more democratic civil society.”8 In Chapter Four, I provided evidence of civil society organizations and projects in Oaxaca that had their origins in religious motivations and principles, but which subsequent to the withdrawal of support by the hierarchy, became independent while maintaining the progressive Church’s critical thinking and modes of action. These civil organizations and projects, it was argued, have participated significantly in the struggle for indigenous rights and have exerted a positive force in shaping democratic practices in the state of Oaxaca.
8 Stewart-Gambino (2001) 194.
235
6.3 Elite Pacts
The post-1998 period in Oaxaca has been characterized by a de-democratization process under PRI governors José Murat (1998–2004) and Ulises Ruíz (2004–). The first became candidate for governor through a pact with President Ernesto Zedillo (1994–2000) that represented a political maneuver by the president to contain an internal party crisis of polarization between reformists and traditionalists. Murat, who belonged to the traditionalist wing of the party, won the support of the president and of the PRI’s political machinery and that allowed him to win the governorship in 1998. That was a crucial year for the PRI throughout the country as the party’s mounting loss of legitimacy was becoming more acute.
The president was attempting to mitigate the party’s crisis by seeking a difficult balance between opening up the political system to satisfy reformists and retaining power through authoritarian and clientelistic practices to satisfy traditionalists.
This process of political accommodation among the elites had no relationship to the interests of the people and ignored the demands of civil society in Oaxaca, which, encouraged by the democratization period of 1995 to 1998, was seeking further reforms. Under Murat, the de-democratization process in Oaxaca included the reinforcement of “old” tactics of corporatism and co-optation of opposition forces. These tactics slowed down the development of political parties as well as of traditional indigenous practices. Murat, abusing his executive privileges and supported by a loyal congress and judiciary, intervened in municipalities to remove local officials and appoint new ones sympathetic to his cause.9
9 Morales, www.usosycostumbres.org.
236
In 2000, the change of party in government at a national level catalyzed de- democratization in Oaxaca where the local PRI felt threatened after its defeat at the national level. Because of this threat, de-democratization took place much more rapidly than the slow and incomplete process of democratization in the previous years.
The change of party in the country’s executive was accompanied by a new plurality in the Federal Congress that has had important consequences for Oaxaca. Political negotiations among parties have become much more cumbersome than in the majority PRI era, and the new Congress has centered deliberations on the necessity to accomplish much needed reforms in areas such as fiscal, energy, and electoral policy. These deliberations have taken precedence over “minor” issues, such as the impeachment of authoritarian governors, which must be initiated by the Senate.
In addition, a new balance of power among the three branches of federal government has prevented unilateral decisions by the executive to remove a governor, as was customary in the old presidentialist system of the PRI. These two new circumstances have characterized the federal government since 2000 and have given rise to a new pact between the central government and that of Oaxaca. Since 2000, this pact has allowed the two governors of
Oaxaca to rule dictatorially without being questioned seriously by the Federal Congress or the executive.
Continuing with the authoritarian cycle started by José Murat, Ulises Ruíz repressed and selectively prosecuted his political adversaries, the press, and civil society organizations by fabricating charges of corruption, illegal labor strikes, and crimes, among other tactics. In doing so, he concurred, with impunity, in serious violations of human and civil rights, such as intimidation, threats, imprisonment, and direct violence. In addition, he used federal funds to
237
finance all sorts of useless projects with the dual aim of winning votes and generating resources for the presidential campaign of the PRI to be held on July 2, 2006.10 The citizens of
Oaxaca, in turn, have not been able to rely on weakly developed opposition political parties, which, despite some meaningful inroads, have been ineffective in democratizing PRI- dominated institutions and in making these two governors accountable to the people. Peoples’ only recourse has been the sometimes violent public demonstrations that first erupted on May of 2006 which have also been repressed violently by state and federal troops.
This third part of this dissertation’s argument also speaks against elite-based theories of democratic transition: elite pacts between national and sub-national level governments maintained governability in Oaxaca under two authoritarian governors but did not promote democratization in the sense of expanding decision-making capacity and political rights to the people. The elite pacts carried out in Oaxaca underscore the strong interrelationship between national and sub-national politics and support Gibson’s systemic conceptualization of local authoritarianism. As he puts it, “Continuity or change in sub-national authoritarianism is thus driven not by local causes alone but also by interactions between provincial politics and the national territorial system in which they are embedded.”.11
6.4 Conditions and Processes Required for Democratization
This study has identified the intermittent nature of the democratization process, as suggested by Tilly, by examining the evolution of the state-society relationship in Oaxaca: from co-optation and corporatist inclusion from the 1940s to the mid-1980s, to relative
10 Ramírez-Vázquez (2007).
238
pluralism and democratization in the period between 1986 and 1998, to de-democratization from 1998 to the present. From 1986 to 1998, the three processes suggested by Tilly as indispensable for the inducement of democratization were present in part. These processes were the integration of trust networks (in Oaxaca’s case of traditional indigenous forms of association and culture) into public politics; the insulation of public politics from major categorical inequalities (in Oaxaca’s case of ethnic inequalities); and the decrease in the autonomy of major power centers (such as cacicazgos in Oaxaca) with respect to public politics.12 In addition, this study puts forth four conditions, which complement and influence the Tilly’s three processes, and which were present in Oaxaca whenever democratic advances were made. These conditions are the agency of civil society organizations, a positive response by state institutions to civil society’s demands, the political opportunity for reform, and the understanding of the culturally differentiated political practices of the indigenous peoples.
Although these are neither necessary nor sufficient conditions for democracy in all contexts, they do carry causal significance for democratic advances.
The high point of the 1986 to 1998 period of democratization in Oaxaca was the constitutional recognition of indigenous rights and culture, including the right of indigenous peoples to elect their officials and make other political decisions within their communities according to their traditional practices. Winning legal recognition of traditional practices as a legitimate route for selecting municipal governments, above and outside the existing liberal framework, can be traced to three factors. The first was the persistence of indigenous political
11 Gibson (2005) 103.
12 Tilly (2007).
239
and social actors—including the influence of the Zapatista movement—in their demands to have their practices and institutions recognized. The second factor was the pressure from opposition political parties towards a broader political opening in the state. The third was a political motivation by the PRI government to regain legitimacy and preserve governability.
The first two factors signify the agency of political actors to carry out the reforms. The third factor represents the political opportunity for reform that induced a favorable institutional response to civil society’s demands. These three factors afford the concurrence of a pluralistic agenda by civil society and the state that, in support of this study’s central thesis, is required to attain democratic advances in a culturally diverse society. I submit that the initiatives that led to the legal recognition of these indigenous forms of political organization and the respect for indigenous culture drew heavily on the sense of ethnic pride, human dignity, and organizational capacity that the progressive Catholic Church fomented in the indigenous people.
The enactment of multicultural reforms also marked the beginning of a new phase of struggle. The different expectations of the different actors—civil society organizations, opposition political parties, and PRI reformists—who participated in the enactment of these reforms, have encumbered their development and implementation. Indigenous groups and civil society organizations would like to see further reforms carried out in order to achieve a fair and significant influence on public policy beyond indigenous communities. In order to do this, at least three further reforms are needed. First is an effective political decentralization that guarantees access to resources at the municipal level. Second would be an institutionalized process for resolving municipal electoral conflicts that goes beyond the PRI- dominated State Congress, which is at present the ultimate authority on municipal elections.
240
Third, legislative reforms are needed that grant indigenous people the institutional means to influence state and federal congresses in order to define public policy in response to their needs and interests. One key piece of legislation, which would benefit not only indigenous groups but also other groups skeptical of current partisan politics, would be the approval of independent candidates for congress and the executive at state and federal levels.
Indigenous people face three major obstacles to getting these further reforms enacted.
First, there is no agreement among federal and state legislators that multicultural reforms should have effect beyond the indigenous communities themselves. Up to now, the congressional view that has predominated supports a universal and liberal notion of citizenship and the confinement of traditional practices to the ambit of indigenous communities. This dissertation has suggested, however, that in Oaxaca, as in other areas of the world, the development of democracy must in principle be shaped by the cultural practices of the people it aims to represent. Thus, indigenous peoples’ differentiated culture, ethno- linguistic traits, and notion of citizenship pose a particular challenge to liberal institutions that, in their origins in the 19th and early 20th century, were not designed to include a pluri- ethnic citizenry.
The second obstacle is the still-insufficient credibility, in terms of fairness, of the traditional practice system that discriminates against all but married Catholic male residents.
The implementation of multicultural reforms has made visible an increasing number of conflicts derived from the election of municipal officials through traditional practices.
Although this higher number of conflicts might only mean that these are now more visible and not more real than in the past, the fairness of the traditional electoral system still needs to be proven. One indispensable first step to achieving this would be an agreement among
241
indigenous communities on the definition of an “authentic” tradition of which there seem to be many versions. Throughout history, traditional practices have been perverted by various influences alien to indigenous communities, and now seems to be the time to redefine the understanding of the term.
The third obstacle is the re-emergence of authoritarianism by state governments since
1998 that has thwarted the opportunity for further multicultural reforms. During this period, authoritarian governors frequently have used executive privileges to “intervene” and impose municipal authorities friendly to their political interests. They also have conditioned the allocation of resources coming from federal government to the granting of political support by municipalities to state government.13 During this de-democratization period, the PRI strategy in the state changed from one of seeking legitimacy through political opening, as practiced during the period of the politics of recognition, to one of maintaining governability through authoritarianism and repression of dissident groups and the press, provoking a violent response by society.
To overcome these obstacles, the agency factors that have in the past and might in the future contribute to a broader political inclusion of indigenous groups are based on the capacity of these, and other non-indigenous groups that support them, to penetrate existing institutions and influence their design. Given the current authoritarian state government and the national-sub-national pacts that sustain it, political change is unlikely to come from state actors. More probably, the inducement for change will come from civil society organizations.
During 2006 and 2007, the recent public demonstrations against the state’s governor that took
13 Morales, www.usosycostumbres.org.
242
place in the city of Oaxaca and the violent response by state and federal governments galvanized the formation of new, and the re-grouping of old, civil society organizations.
Despite the state’s repression —or perhaps because of it— these organizations have continued to seek innovative ways to contest the state and promote further legislative reforms.
Despite the alternation of favorable and unfavorable periods, this study has suggested that, overall, democracy has advanced in Oaxaca relative to 38 years ago. In the partisan realm, there has been an increased competition at the federal, state, and municipal levels.
High abstention rates predominate, however, especially in state congressional elections. In the non-partisan realm, indigenous organizations have made advances in transforming the state- society relationship from one of generalized co-optation up to the 1970s to one of relative contestation and formal acceptance of multiculturalism at present. Over the last decade, these organizations have re-asserted themselves with the support of national and international non- governmental organizations and progressive members of the Catholic Church.
The larger implication of this study beyond Oaxaca is the understanding of democracy not as a universal prescription for political representation but as a culturally differentiated practice. Whether in Iraq, Afghanistan, India, or Oaxaca, the successful implementation of democracy depends on the understanding and inclusion of local cultural practices. The role of civil society is essential in conveying cultural traits of diverse social groups to liberal institutions and the design of public policy. The challenge that lies ahead in every region of the world consists of shaping these institutions according to the heterogeneous cultural characteristics of the people being represented while respecting individual freedoms.
243
REFERENCES CITED
Aguirre Beltrán, Gonzalo and Ricardo Pozas. 1954. “Instituciones Indígenas en el México Actual.” In Alfonso Caso, ed. Metodos y Resultados de la Política Indigenista en México.171–268. México. Instituto Nacional Indigenista.
Aguirre Beltran, Gonzalo. 1988. “Formación de una Teoría y una Práctica Indigenistas.” en INI (ed.) Instituto Nacional Indigenista 40 años, México, INI, p. 14, cited in Hernández- Díaz (2001), p.24.
Alford, C. Fred. 2003. “Civil Society and its Discontents.” The Good Society 12/1:11–16.
Amar Kenneth. 1984. “Marxism(s) in Liberation Theology.” Cross Currents 34 (Winter): 427–438.
Anaya-Muñoz, Alejandro. 2004. “Explaining the Politics of Recognition of Ethnic Diversity and Indigenous Peoples Rights in Oaxaca, Mexico.” Bulletin of Latin American Research 23/4: 414–433.
———. 2006. Autonomía indígena, gobernabilidad y legitimidad en México : la legalización de los usos y costumbres electorales en Oaxaca. México, D.F.: Universidad Iberoamericana : Plaza y Valdés.
Arias, Manuel. 1998. Y la Palabra de Dios se Hizo Indio. Mexico D.F:Ediciones Dabar.
Avritzer, Leonardo. 1997. “The Meaning of Civil Society in Latin America.” Constellations, 4/1:1.
———. 2002. Democracy and the Public Space in Latin America. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press.
Baez Jorge, Félix. 1985. ¿Líderes indios o intermediarios indigenistas? Dinámicas internas y externas en el caso mexicano. Documento de Trabajo número 2. México:Escuela Nacional de Antropología e Historia.
Bartolomé, Miguel A. 1994. “La represión de la pluralidad: Los derechos indígenas en Oaxaca,” In Derechos Indígenas en la Actualidad. 73–99. Mexico D.F.: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México,.
Bartolome, Miguel A. and Alicia M Barabas, eds. 1998. Automonias etnicas y Eestados nacionales, Mexico D.F.: CONACULTA – INAH.
Bartra, Roger. 1998. “Violencias salvajes: usos y costumbres y sociedad civil.” In Sánchez Vázquez, Adolfo,ed. El mundo de la violencia. 187–188. Mexico: UNAM-FCE.
244
Bendick, John and W.E. Hewitt. 2000. The Church at the Grassroots in Latin America: Perspectives on Thirty Years of Activism. Westport, CT and London: Praeger Publishers.
Berman, Sheri. 1997. “Civil Society and the Collapse of the Weimar Republic.” World Politics, 49/3:401–429.
Bermeo, Nancy. 2003. Ordinary People in Extraordinary Times: The Citizenry and the Breakdown of Democracy. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Berryman, Phillip. 1984. “Basic Christian Communities and the Future of Latin America.” Monthly Review 36:27–40. (Cited in Smith [1991] 106).
———. 1987. Liberation Theology: Essential Facts about the Revolutionary Movement in Latin America and Beyond. New York: Pantheon Books.
Bishops of the South-Pacific Region. (1977), Nuestro Compromiso Cristiano con los Indígenas y Campesinos de la Región Pacífico Sur. México D.F.: Círculo del Espíritu Santo.
⎯⎯⎯. (1983). Vivir Cristianamente el Compromiso Político. México D.F.: Círculo del Espíritu Santo. Cited in Marroquín (2007) 179
Boff, Leonardo, and Clodovis Boff. 1987. Introducing Liberation Theology. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books.
Bondourant, Joan. 1965. The Conquest of Violence: The Gandhian Philosophy of Conflict. Berkeley: University of California Press. (Cited in Elliot [2003] 11).
Bottasso, Juan, ed. 1990. La Iglesia y los Indios. Quito, Ecuador: Ediciones Abya-Yala.
Cabrero, Enrique. 1998. “La Ola Descentralizadora: Un Análisis de Tendencias y Obstáculos de las Políticas Descentralizadoras en el Ámbito Internacional.” In Enrique Cabrero, ed. 1998.
Cabrero, Enrique, ed. 1998. Las Políticas Descentralizadoras en México (1983–1993): Logros y Desencantos. Mexico D.F.: Miguel Angel Porrua–Centro de Investigación y Docencia Económicas.
Cabrero, Enrique. 2000. “La municipalización, un proceso necesario ante un federalismo que se renueva.” Municipalización en Guanajuato, una estrategia para el fortalecimiento municipal. México: UAM/Codereg/Gobierno del Estado de Guanajuato/Dirección General de Fortalecimiento Municipal.
Campbell, Colin. 2006. “Do Today’s Sociologists Really Appreciate Weber’s Essay The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism?” The Sociological Review 54/7:207–223. Blackwell Publishing, Ltd., Oxford, UK.
245
Carrasco, Bartolomé. 1995. “Amo a la Iglesia.” (Speech during his 50th anniversary as priest, March 31, 1995), No. 30. Oaxaca: Arzobispado de Oaxaca.
Carrasco, Diódoro. 1994. Propuesta de un nuevo acuerdo para los pueblos indígenas. Oaxaca: Procuraduría para la Defensa del Indígena. (Cited in Recondo [2007] 201).
Carroll, B. W., and T. Carroll. (1999). “Civic Networks, Legitimacy and the Policy process.” Governance: An International Journal of Policy and Administration 12/1:1–28.
——. 2004. “Civil Society, Development, and Democracy.” Paper given at the Canadian Political Science Association, Winnipeg, Manitoba, CANADA. June 2004
Caso, Alfonso. 1948. America Indigena, III. Mexico D.F.: Instituto Indigenista Interamericano.
Centéotl: Center for Community Development, http://www.prodigyweb.net.mx/centeotlac/.
Center for Indigenous Rights Flor y Canto, A. C. http://www.geocities.com/florycantoac.
Centro Mexicano para la Filantropia A.C. In Oxhorn, Philip, Joseph S. Tulchin, and Andrew D. Selee, eds. 2004. Decentralization, Democratic Governance, and Civil Society in Comparative Perspective. Washington D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center Press.
Chandhoke, Neera. 2001 “The ‘Civil’ and the ‘Political’ in Civil Society.” Democratization 8/2:1-24.
Chatterjee, Partha. 2004. The Politics of the Governed: Reflections on Popular Politics in Most of the World. New York: Columbia University Press.
Cheresky, Isidro. 2006. “Citizenship and Civil Society in Renascent Argentina.” In Feinberg et al., eds. 2006.
Cheresky, Isidro and Manuel Mora y Araujo. 2006. “Argentina after the Nineties: Changes in Social Structure and Political Behavior.” In Feinberg et al., eds. 2006:
Cohen, Abner. 1969. Custom and Politics in Urban Africa. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Comisión Civil Internacional de Observación por los Derechos Humanos (CCIODH). 2007. Informe sobre los Hechos en Oaxaca. Quinta Visita del 16 de diciembre de 2006 al 20 de enero de 2007, Barcelona.
Concha, Miguel, Oscar González Gari, and Lino Salas. 1986. La Participación de los Cristianos en el Proceso Popular de Liberación en México, México: Siglo XXI/IIS- UNAM. (Cited in Muro [1994]).
246
Cornelius, Wayne A., Todd A. Eisenstadt, and Jane Hindley, eds. 1999. Sub-national Politics and Democratization in Mexico. La Jolla, Calif.: Center for C.S.-Mexican Studies.
Cooperative Coffees, Coop Yeni Navan, MICHIZA http://coopcofees.com/what/producers/michiza-mexico/michiza.
Cué, Gabino. 2004. “Oaxaca: Transición Democrática o Regresión Autoritaria. La Lucha contra el Fraude y la Elección de Estado en el Sur de México.” Manuscript. (Cited in Martínez-Vásquez [2007]).
Dahl, R.A. 1971. Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition, New Haven: Yale University Press.
De la Cadena, Marisol. 2000. Indigenous Mestizos: The Politics of Race and Culture in Cuzco, Peru, 1919–1991. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
Díaz Polanco, Hector. 1997. Indigenous Peoples in Latin America: The Quest for Self- Determination. Boulder CO: Westview.
Downs, A. 1956. An Economic Theory of Democracy. New York: Harper.
Edwards, Michael. “Enthusiasts, Tacticians, and Skeptics: The World Bank, Civil Society and Social Capital.” http://povlibrary/worldbank.org/files/4608_edwards.pdf.
Eisenstadt, Todd. 2006. “Indigenous Attitudes and Ethic Identity Construction in Mexico.” Mexican Studies/Estudios Mexicanos 22 (1), Winter:107–129.
Elliott, Carolyn M. 2003 “Civil Society and Democracy” In Carolyn M. Elliott, ed. Civil Society and Democracy. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.
Encarnación, Omar. 2000. “Tocqueville’s Missionaries.” World Policy Journal, 17 April:9– 18.
Esteva, Gustavo. 2001. Experiencias Organizativas de la Sociedad Civil en Oaxaca. Oaxaca: Centro de Diálogos Interculturales A.C.
———. 2007. “The Path to Radical Democracy.” Socialism and Democracy, Vol 21 (2):74– 96.
Esteva, Gustavo, ed. 2006. Reflexiones en el Punto de Partida. Centro de Encuentros y Diálogos Interculturales, A.C., Oaxaca: Ediciones ¡Basta!.
Esteva, Gustavo and Adelfo Regino. 2007. “Tres Propuestas de Reforma del Estado.” La Jornada, July 30, 2007.
Federal Electoral Institute (IFE): www.ife.org .
247
Feinberg, Richard, Carlos Waisman, and Leon Zamosc, eds. 2006. Civil Society in Latin America, New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Feinberg, Richard, Carlos Waisman, and Leon Zamosc. 2006. “Introduction: Civil Society and Democracy: The Latin American Case” In Feinberg et al., eds. 2006.
Fierlbeck, K. 1998. Globalizing Democracy: Power, Legitimacy, and Interpretation of Democratic Ideas. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 190–200. (Cited in Carroll and Carroll [2004].
Foley, Michael and Bob Edwards. 1996. “The Paradox of Civil Society.” Journal of Democracy, 7/3: 38–52.
Forment, Carlos. 2003. Democracy in Latin America, 1760–1900. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Foro de los Pueblos Indígenas de Oaxaca. November 2006. Oaxaca. Manuscript on file at Servicios del Pueblo Mixe, A.C.
Foro Nacional: “Construyendo la Democracia y la Gobernabilidad en Oaxaca,” Organizaciones de la Sociedad Civil; Asamblea Popular de los Pueblos de Oaxaca; Autoridades Municipales, Comunales y Agrarias; Sindicato Nacional de Trabajadores de la Educación Sección XXII; Oaxaca, Mexico, August, 2006.
Foro de Organismos Civiles de Oaxaca. 2000. Directorio de Organismos Civiles del Estado de Oaxaca. Oaxaca:
Fox, Jonathan. 1994. “The Difficult Transition from Clientelism to Citizenship: Lessons from Mexico.” World Politics, Vol. 46/2:151–184.
Freire, Paulo. 1972. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Herder and Herder (Cited in Smith [1991] 252 n. 27).
Gellner, Ernest. 1994. Conditions of Liberty, London: Hamish Hamilton., (Cited in Feinberg, Waisman, and Zamosc [2006]).
Gibson, Edward L. 2004. “Subnational Authoritarianism: Territorial Strategies of Political Control in Democratic Regimes,” Annual Meeting of the American Political Science Association.
Gibson, Edward L. 2005. “Boundary Control: Sub-national Authoritarianism in Democratic Countries.” World Politics 58 (October):101–132.
Gremillion, Joseph, ed. 1976. The Gospel of Peace and Justice: Catholic Social Teaching since Pope John. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. (Quoted in Smith [1991] 18).
248
Guerrero, Pablo and Tonatiuh Gutiérrez, eds. 2000. Reflexiones en Torno a la Reforma Municipal del Artículo 115, Mexico City: Miguel Angel Porrúa and Centro de Investigación y Docencia Económica. (Cited in Misrahi [2004]).
Gupta, Dipankar. 1999. “Civil Society or the State: What Happened to Citizenship?” In Ramachandra Guha and Johnathan Parry, eds. Institutions and Inequalities. Delhi: Oxford University Press.
Gutiérrez, Gustavo. 1973. Teología de la Liberación. Salamanca, Ediciones Sígueme. (English translation A Theology of Liberation: Perspectives, Maryknoll NY, Orbis Books).
Hale, Charles R. 2002. “Does multiculturalism Menace? Governance, Cultural Rights and the Politics of Identity in Guatemala.” Journal of Latin American Studies, 34/3, August: 485– 524.
Hall, John A. 1995. Civil Society: Theory, History, Comparison. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Harvey, N. 1998. The Chiapas Rebellion. The Struggle for Land and Democracy. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press. (Cited in Anaya-Muñoz [2005]).
Hellman, Judith Adler. 1990. “The Study of New Social Movements in Latin America and the Question of Autonomy.” Latin American Studies Association Forum 21:7–21.
Hennelly, Alfred T. ed. 1990. Liberation Theology: A Documentary History. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books.
Herández-Díaz, Jorge. 2001. Reclamos de Identidad, Mexico: Miguel Angel Porrúa.
Hernández, Franco. 1988. “De la educación indígena tradicional a la educación bilingüe.” In Guillermo Bonfil Batalla, ed., Utopía y revolución: El pensamiento político contemporáneo de los indios en America Latina. México: Editorial Nueva Imágen.
Hernández-Navarro, Luis. 1999. “Reaffirming Ethic Identity and Reconstructing Politics in Oaxaca.” In Cornelius et al., eds. 1999.
——. 2007. “Que se Vayan Todos,” Noticias, August 15.
Hershberg, Eric. 2003. “Latin America at the Crossroads: An Introductory Essay.” NACLA Report on the Americas 37/3 (Nov./Dec.):20–23.
Hindley, Jane. 1996. “Towards a Pluricultural Nation: The Limits of Indigenismo and Article 4,” In Rob Aitken, et al., Dismantling the Mexican State? London and New York: Palgrave McMillan.
249
Hoare Quintin and Geoffrey Nowell Smith, trans. and eds. 1971. Selections from the Prison Notebooks of Antonio Gramsci. New York: International Publishers.
National Institute of Statistics, Geography, and Informatics (INEGI), 2000. XII Censo General de Población y Vivienda.
National Indigenous Institute (INI) 1995. Población total y población indígena estimada por entidad federative.
Kasfir, N. 1998a. “Introduction—the Conventional Notion of Civil Society: A Critique.” Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 36/2:1–20. (Cited in Carroll and Carroll [2004]).
——. 1998b. “Civil Society, the State and Democracy in Africa.” Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 36/2:123–149(Cited in Carroll and Carroll [2004]).
Katzenstein, Peter and Tymothy A. Byrnes. 2006. “Transnational Religion in an Expanding Europe.” Perspectives on Politics 4/4 (December): 679–694.
Klaiber, Jeffrey. 1998. The Church, Dictatorships and Democracy in Latin America. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books.
Knight, Alan. 1990. “Racism, Revolution, and Indigenismo: Mexico, 1910–1940.” In Richard Graham (ed) The Idea of Race in Latin America, 1870–1940. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Latin American Bishops Conference. 1979. Final Documents Puebla, México.
Latin American Bishops Conference. 1992. Secunda Relatio, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.
Lehman, David. 1990. Democracy and Development in Latin America: Economics, Politics, and Religion in the Post-War Period. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Levine, Daniel H. 2006. “Civil Society and Political Decay in Venezuela.” In Richard Feinberg et al eds. 2006.
“Ley de Derechos de los Pueblos y Comunidades de Oaxaca.” Gobierno del Estado de Oaxaca, Secretaría de Asuntos Indígenas. 1998.
Lievesly, Geraldine. 1999. Democracy in Latin America: Mobilization, Power, and the Search for a New Politics. Manchester, England: Manchester University Press.
Linz, J. and A. Stepan. 1996. Problems of Democratic Transition and Consolidation. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
250
Locke, John. 1690. [1980] Second Treatise on Government. C.B. Macpherson, ed. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company.
McNabb, Valerie Ann and Martha R. Ross. 1993. “Liberation or Theology? Ecclessial Base Communities in Oaxaca, Mexico, Journal of Church and State 35/4 Autumn.
Maldonado-Alvarado, Benjamín. 2002. Autonomía y comunalidad India: Enfoques y propuestas desde Oaxaca. Oaxaca: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia.
Marroquín, Enrique. 2007. El conflicto religioso en Oaxaca. Mexico: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, Centro de Investigaciones Interdisciplinarias en Ciencias y Humanidades.
Martínez Vásquez, Victor Raúl. 1990. Movimiento popular y política en Oaxaca 1968–1986, México: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes.
——. 2006. “Movimiento magisterial y crisis política en Oaxaca.” In Joel Vicente Cortes, ed. Educación, Sindicalismo y Gobernabilidad en Oaxaca. . Oaxaca: Sindicato Nacional de Trabajadores de la Educación.
Martínez-Vásquez, Víctor Raul. 2007. Autoritarismo, movimiento popular y crisis política: Oaxaca 2006. Oaxaca: Universidad Autónoma “Benito Juárez” de Oaxaca, Instituto de Investigaciones Sociológicas.
Marzal, Manuel M. et al. 1996. The Indian Face of God in Latin America. New York: Maryknoll, Orbis Books.
Memoria de los Procesos Electorales de Diputados y Concejales de 1995.Oaxaca: IEE: 32–39. (Cited in Recondo [2007] 208).
Méndez, Sara. 1997. Monografia de CEDIPIO: 1972–1997. Manuscript.
Méndez-Morales, Sara. 2001. De la Organización al Poder. Experiencias en Municipios Oaxaqueños, Oaxaca: EDUCA, A.C.
Merino, Mauricio. 1992. Fuera del Centro. Veracruz: Universidad Veracruzana. (Cited in Misrahi [2004]).
Mexican Bishops Conference. 1988. Fundamentos Teológicos de la Pastoral Indígena en México. Mexico D.F.
Misrahi, Yemile. 2004. “Twenty Years of Decentralization in Mexico: A Top-Down Process.” In Oxhorn, Philip, Joseph S. Tulchin, and Andrew D. Selee, eds. (2004).
Morales, Lourdes, Oaxaca: Algunos Cuestionamientos en Torno a la Ficción Multiculturalista, manuscript, EDUCA website: www.usosycostumbres.org
251
Mora y Araujo, Manuel. 2006. “Argentina after the Nineties: Changes in Social Structure and Political Behavior.” In Richard Feinberg, et. al., eds. 2006.
Mouffe, Chantal, ed. 1992. Dimensions of Radical Democracy: Pluralism, Citizenship, Community. London: Verso.
Muro, Victor Gabriel. 1994. Iglesia y movimientos sociales en México, 1972–1987: Los casos de Ciudad Juárez y el Istmo de Tehuantepec. Puebla: México: Red Nacional de Investigación Urbana, El Colegio de Michoacán.
Norget, Kristin. 2004. “Knowing Where we Enter: Indigenous Theology and the Popular Church in Oaxaca, Mexico.” In Edward L.Cleary and Timothy J. Steigenga, eds. Resurgent Voices in Latin America: Indigenous People, Political Mobilization and Religious Change. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press.
O’Donnell, Guillermo 1994. “Delegative Democracy.” Journal of Democracy 5/1:55–69.
———. 1996. “Illusions about Consolidation.” Journal of Democracy 7/1:34–51.
O’Donnell, Guillermo and Phillip Schmitter. 1986. Transitions from Authoritarian Rule. 4 Tentative Conclusions about Uncertain Democracies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
O’Donnell, Guillermo, Philippe C. Schmitter, and Laurence Whitehead, eds. 1986. Transitions from Authoritarian Rule 3: Comparative Perspectives. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Olvera, Alberto J. 1997. “Civil Society and Political Transition in Mexico.” Constellations 4/1:105-123.
———. 2003a. “Introducción.” In Olvera, Alberto, ed. 2003.
———. 2003b. “Las Tendencias Generales del Desarrollo de la Sociedad Civil en México” In Olvera, ed. 2003.
Olvera, Alberto J., ed. 2003. Sociedad Civil, Esfera Pública y Democratización en America Latina: México. Veracruz, México: Fondo de Cultura Económica.
Oxhorn, Philip. 2001. “From Human Rights to Citizenship Rights: Recent Trends in the Study of Latin American Social Movements.” Latin American Research Review 36/3:163–182.
———. 2006. “Conceptualizing Civil Society from the Bottom Up: A Political Economy Perspective.” In Richard Feinberg, et. al., eds.
Oxhorn, Philip, Joseph S. Tulchin, and Andrew D. Selee, eds. 2004. Decentralization, Democratic Governance, and Civil Society in Comparative Perspective: Africa, Asia, and
252
Latin America, Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center Press; Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Periódico Oficial del Estado de Oaxaca, 19 June, 1998.
Peterson, Anya. 1975.” Prestigio y Afiliación en una Comunidad Urbana: Juchitán, Oaxaca, México.” SEP-INI No. 37. (Cited in Muro [1994]).
Piattoni, Simona, ed. 2001. Clientelism, Interests, and Democratic Representation. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press.
Postero, Nancy Grey and Leon Zamosc, eds. 2004. The Struggle for Indigenous Rights in Latin America. Brighton, U.K.: Sussex Academic Press.
Pronunciamiento Conjunto de los Pueblos Indígenas y la Sociedad Civil de Oaxaca. 2006. In Foro de los Pueblos Indígenas de Oaxaca. November 2006. Oaxaca. Manuscript on file at Servicios del Pueblo Mixe, A.C.
Putnam, Robert. 1993. Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Italy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
——. 2000. Bowling Alone. New York: Simon and Schuster.
Recondo, David. 2007. “Oaxaca, el Ocaso de un Régimen,” Letras Libres, No. 98, February. (Cited in Martínez-Vasquez [2007]).
———. 2007. La Política del Gatopardo. Multiculturalismo y Democracia en Oaxaca. Mexico: Publicaciones de la Casa Chata, Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social (CIESAS).
Reygadas, Rafael. 2004. Abriendo Veredas. Mexico D.F.: Convergencia de Organismos Civiles por la Democracia.
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. 1762 [1987]. “On the Social Contract.” In Donald A. Cress, trans. and ed. The Basic Political Writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company.
Rubin, Jeffrey W. 1997. Decentering the Regime: Ethnicity, Radicalism, and Democracy in Juchitán, Mexico. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
Rus, Jan. 1995. “La comunidad revolucionaria institucional: la subversion del gobierno indígena en los Altos de Chiapas, 1936–1968.” In Juan Pedro Viqueira et al. Chiapas, los rumbos de una historia.. Mexico D.F.: CIESAS-CEMCA-UNAM-UDG.
Santin del Rio, Leticia. 2004. “Decentralization and Civil Society in Mexico.” In Oxhorn et al., eds. 2004.
253
Sarmiento Silva, Sergio. 1991. “El movimiento indio y la modernización.” Cuadernos Agrarios 2, mayo-agosto:100–101. (Cited in Herández-Díaz [2001] 30).
Schattschneider, E.E. 1960. The Semisovereign People; a Realist's View of Democracy in America. Hinsdale, IL: Dryden Press.
Schumpeter, J.A. 1942. Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy. New York: Harper.
Servicios para una Educación Alternativa, A.C. EDUCA. 2007. Apuntes Municipalistas, Cuaderno No. 4. Oaxaca.
Servicios para una Educación Alternativa, A.C.EDUCA http://www.educaoaxaca.org.
Smith, Christian. 1991. The Emergence of Liberation Theology: Radical Religion and Social Movement Theory. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.
Snyder, Richard. 1999. “After the State Withdraws: Neoliberalism and Subnational Authoritarian Regimes in Mexico.” In Cornelius et al., eds.
Soto, Hernando de. 2000. The Mystery of Capital: Why Capitalism Triumphs in the West and Fails Everywhere Else. New York: Basic Books.
Stepan, Alfred,. 1988. Rethinking Military Politics. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Stewart-Gambino, Hannah W. 2001. “Religious Consumers in a Changing Religious Marketplace.” Latin American Research Review 36/1. 193–206.
Tarrow, Sidney. 1996. “Making Social Science Work Across Space and Time: A Critical Reflection on Robert Putnam’s Making Democracy Work.” American Political Science Review, 90/2:389–397.
Taylor, Charles. 1990. “Modes of Civil Society.” Public Culture 3/1. 95–118.
———. 1992. Multiculturalism and the Politics of Recognition, Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Tilly, Charles. 2007. Democracy. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Tocqueville, Alexis de. 1969. Democracy in America, 2. New York: Harper and Row.
Traditional Practices of Oaxaca: www.usosycostumbres.org
UCIRI http://www.uciri.org.
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (2007) 61st Session of the General Assembly, Agenda item 68, 12 September 2007. (UN Website consulted on July
254
2, 2008: http://www.un.org/ga/61/news/news.asp?NewsID=23794&Cr=indigenous&Cr1=).
Vann Cott, Dona Lee. 2000. Friendly Liquidation of the Past: The Politics of Diversity in Latin America. Pittsburgh, University of Pittsburgh Press.
Varese, Stefano. 1983. “Restoring Multiplicity: Indianities and the Civilizing Project in Latin America.” Latin American Perspectives 9/2: 29–41.
Velázquez Cepeda, Maria Cristina. 2000. El Nombramiento. Oaxaca: Instituto Estatal Electoral de Oaxaca.
Waisman, Carlos. 2006. “Autonomy, Self-Regulation and Democracy: Tocquevillian- Gellnerian Perspectives on Civil Society and the Bifurcated State in Latin America.” In Feinberg et al., eds.
Walzer, Michael. 1991. “The Idea of Civil Society.” Dissent, 38/2:293–304.
Warman, Arturo et al. 1978. De eso que llaman antropología Mexicana. México D.F.: Editorial Nuestro Tiempo. (Cited in Herández-Díaz [2001] 31).
Weber, Max. 1958 [1905]. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons.
White, Gordon. 1994. “Civil Society, Democratization, and Development (I).” Democratization 1/3 (Autumn):375–390.
Wolford, Wendy. 2006. “Sem Reforma Agrária, Nao Há Democracia: Deepening Democracy and the Struggle for Agrarian Reform in Brazil.” In Feinberg et. al., eds.
Yashar, Deborah J. 2005. Contesting Citizenship in Latin America: The Rise of Indigenous Movements and the Post-Liberal Challenge. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Yescas, Isidoro. 2008. “Movimiento Magisterial y Gobernabilidad en Oaxaca.” El Cotidiano, No. 148, March-April. Mexico: Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana-Azcapotzalco.
255